You again
by GiveMeEverything
Summary: Brittany and Santana hate each other when they are younger. 20 years later, Brittany is a famous author intent to get back at Santana. She plans to write a tell all book called 'The Truth about Santana Lopez'. A chance encounter with her past could change all that. Three-shot. Now a multi-chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is story is from a prompt by catbast that I liked and couldn't say no to writing. It's just a three-shot, nothing long. The prompt is below, hope you like the story.**

**._..brittana hate each other when they are younger (say Santana bullies brit in kindergarten or something) and one moves away and they don't remember each other until like 20 years later where one is famous? then they meet and are like, 'bitch' 'back at you' and have really hot anger sex?_**

**_brittany writing an article or something like 'the truth about Santana Lopez' and Santana turns up at her house like 'what is this bullcrap' and bam super hot angry sexy times..._**

**PS:****I twisted it and added a bit of my own stuff because of reasons ;-p**

**Title not associated with the movie.**

* * *

If someone asked me, 'what it's like being Brittany S. Pierce?' I'd say it sucks. It's not all bad but there are definitely some undesirable side effects.

Not everybody can claim to have millions of fans, plenty of love and adoration, five bestselling novels and a ton of money. That's the good part of being a famous author.

The other side is not so glamorous. My personal life is essentially nonexistent. Travelling from place to place promoting my books and doing book signing events is tiring. I'm sick of seeing my face on the internet; I can't even walk next to anybody without appearing on the tabloids. Actually, I don't even want to talk about my love life; I can't even call it that. It's mostly just a sex life. I'm not a bed hopper don't get me wrong, it's usually other woman in and out of my bed and of course there's never breakfast.

I, Brittany S. Pierce made a vow at the age of 19 to never fall in love again. That vow has remained intact for 10 years now. I've guarded what remains of my heart with viciousness because I fell in love once and it scarred me for life.

Horrible right? Well, having your heart stabbed too many times and shoved into sinking mud would cause anybody enough heartache for a lifetime. Every time I think about my heart at the bottom of some god-forsaken ditch I feel rage. I'll never forgive myself for being so stupid and blind to let some girl ruin my life. I'll never live down the humiliation of putting my heart in the hands of the one girl who would look at it like a piece of rubbish. Believe me, I'm not a harsh person but if you ever went through the hell I went through, no one would blame you for harboring murderous feelings.

The only semi-cure for my hate is writing, and that's what I've been doing all of my adult life. As long as I have that hate, I can churn out those New York Times best sellers on the regular.

But sometimes I just want a break from it all. If I could hit the reset button and start all over again from the beginning, I would. But that isn't possible. I would have asked God to put me in a world where I would never have to meet her.

Writing was my lifesaver, I just need some time to breathe! And now after my fifth successful novel my publishers want me to write a new one. Honestly, I don't have any idea what it should be about. Zero. Nada.

"You'll think of something, I'm sure." There she goes again, Ms. Asian money pocket, Tina, pushing me to get started on a new project. Newsflash, I'm not just an investment to make you more money.

"Tina, I'm really tired." I tell her. It's the end of November and a Christmas break sounds heavenly right now.

"You're never tired Brittany. Wait, no! Does this mean you're thinking of taking a break for an undetermined amount of time? The fans will be so disappointed."

I really wish she didn't play the fan card. I absolutely love my fans. They're super sweet. They write me letters and buy me stuffed animals. But I want to be selfish for once – I really need a break. I have a whole season of two broke girls to catch up on. Yeah, its Tubb's and my favorite show sue us.

"I can't write when I'm not inspired! What am I going to write about?"

"Are you seriously asking me that?" Small observation, shocked doesn't really look shocking on Tina's face. I mean her eyes get wider but barely and her mouth is open most of the time already so, yeah, she's not achieving much success with that look. I must really be going bonkers if I actually found something interesting about Tina.

"I already wrote about the homeless man that lives on my street. He's practically a celebrity now that people know he inspired the character of Mr. Zigger, New York City's hero in disguise. I just can't think of anything write now!"

"Maybe you should get back to your roots Brittany. Write about something you care about."

"My cat? I have big plans for a Lord Tubbington comic book but I don't think I know his dark side well enough yet and I've never done a comic before. It's certainly in the works though."

"Brittany, who was your first love?" Weird question but Santana Lopez. What? Did I just allow her to occupy my thoughts for two milliseconds? Damn, you Asian trickster.

"Umm, some high-school girl." No way am I talking about her to Tina gossip mouth. I know Tina's been the source for some stuff magazines have written about me.

"Okay, who makes you happy?" No one, except, Santana Lopez could have made me happy if she just…Stop right there Brittany.

"Tubbs makes me happy." I totally saw that eye roll Tina.

"Who makes you want to wake up and breathe another day?" Santana Lopez. If only for the satisfaction of knowing 99.99% that I'm better off than she is. That last 0.1% is because I'm still not sure if she's the royal princess of Spain or not. She sure acted like royalty in high-school.

"My fans," I give Tina a lame answer.

"Fine, why don't you write about the person you hate the most? There's got to be someone that Brittany S. Pierce wants to get revenge on even if it's just for accidently thinking her cat was a female."

"You've said enough Tina, you just got you're wish." The smirk she's giving me is saying 'mission complete.' She really did hit the nail on the head. My mind is already swirling with the things I would love to say to Santana if I ever met her again. And even if I never do meet her, I hope she reads the book and realizes how shitty she made my life.

Little does Tina know that Santana Lopez did more than insult my cat on several occasions. It's time I exposed that bitch for who she really is.

/

It's always a hazard getting back to my skyscraper apartment being famous and all. That's why I don't like to come out to 'the office'. I don't mind the traffic though unlike a lot of people. I like observing people living their everyday lives from the window of my car. It makes me feel normal, like the rest of them; just another person in the sea of people going about their day. But today I can't wait to get home.

There's so much I need to remember about Santana Lopez, memories I wish I didn't have to dig up. I already know that this book is going to be mentally strenuous. I've tried so hard to bury most of the details. I only remember them as separate events. I remember how she made me feel in those times. I try not to remember her face, or the way she said or did those hurtful things. It's too painful. She's the only person who has the ability to bring out the extreme emotions in me.

I don't even know how that's possible.

She was so beautiful, that's the first thing I would tell anybody if they asked me. I think God was extra careful when he made her, she was perfect and mesmerizing. Her lips, I could write a book about them. I've never met anybody like her who could capture my entire being and send me spiraling into a world of dreams and hopeless possibilities with one look. She didn't even have to say anything. I was in love with her before I even knew humans were meant to fall in love.

The one other thing I'm sure of is that I hate her. The way she looked at me melted my insides and burned them into scalding molten lava. I hate her so much. I thought she was an angel but she turned into my own personal devil, either way she was something out of this world that had me trapped in her beauty and pure evilness. The more in love I fell with her, the more I hated her. I hated her because she was my everything and I was her nothing. I hated her for using me and I hated that I let her because I couldn't resist. I hated that she occupied my every thought and that to her I was just an after-thought. I hated that the only time she looked at me was so she could destroy any hopes I had for us. I hated that hope most of all, the falseness of it; she strung me along and finally shred me. I hate what she made me into; a girl with no self-confidence, despising the notion of love.

Just thinking about her is exhausting but I know I have to do this. I have to get her out of my system once and for all. I've been living with the past for 10 years. Maybe I'll feel better after writing this novel.

I only know it's something I have to do.

Armed with a cup of hot cocoa, a stack of newspapers and my trusty laptop, I sit down in my thinking chair. It's nothing special – a stainless steel, wire chair coupled with a glass desk at the window. The view of New York City bustling about unawares of my observation has a calming effect on me. I think best when I'm sitting at this window. Braving myself for the task at hand, I take my time sipping the scolding concoction. On a blank document file I begin to type.

**Two years old**

I don't know how I remember this. People can't usually remember details from when they are so young. I'm like everybody else in that way, but I do remember the first time I met her. She had an instant impact on me. It was in kindergarten and it was our first day there. I can't remember how many kids there were but I do know that she was the only one who caught my eye.

Our first activity was getting to know each other. We sat in a circle and the teacher sang a song, at the end everyone had to say their names. I tried to remember which name went with which face but I wasn't so good at remembering the names, only the faces. Then it was her turn. I didn't catch her full name because it was long, longer than mine and I couldn't even say my own name that well. I managed to retain the last two syllables and that made me really happy. I finally knew a little bit about the girl, even if it was half of her name.

I spent the whole song just looking at her. She was the only girl with dark skin and curly, black hair in the class. I also noticed that she didn't smile at all. I bet she would look so much prettier if she did.

We moved on to coloring. The teacher told us to get into pairs so we could share color pencils. My little heart jumped at the chance to be next to her. I was really afraid someone else might steal the girl I had already claimed as mine so I ran as fast as I could past the other kids. I was hugely satisfied with myself for being first in line to ask her to be my buddy.

Hi. I told her. I didn't expect her to smile at me right away but was hoping she would. She didn't, her frown remained permanent as she looked me up and down. So I tried again.

Tana, color? She held my gaze for a few seconds but shook her bush of a head. No.

That shocked me. I started to think of what I had done to make her not like me. I didn't know what to say next, I didn't know the words to ask her why she didn't like me. I didn't know how to tell her that I liked her. I just wanted to draw a sun for her so she would smile at me.

Another kid came up to us and just like that Santana was sharing her colors with him. I got really jealous that it was so easy for him.

So I went to color with somebody else thinking maybe she didn't like my pink panda shirt because I couldn't think of any other reason Santana didn't want to be my buddy.

I think I kept trying throughout kindergarten, but I never got to color with her.

**Six years old**

This I remember with clarity. It was the first birthday that all my friends from school had been invited to my house for an afternoon of fun and games. Mom and dad had even gotten a bouncing castle. I was officially turning six years old.

I had made some nice friends; at least fifteen of them came to celebrate with me. I even had a best friend – Rachel Berry. Sadly, I still hadn't gotten Santana to play with me or even talk to me.

It was a sunny afternoon and I was happily playing on the bouncing castle. From on top, I spied Santana and her permanent frown coming up the driveway of my home. She was being coaxed by her mother. I gave a squeal that pierced all the noise and she looked up at me. Santana didn't smile for me but she didn't look sad either, that was better than anything she'd ever given me.

At first I was happy that Santana had come to my birthday party until she thought it would be fun to lead some boys in a charge through my beloved flower garden. My geraniums were just beginning to bloom and then she galloped through them and sliced their heads off. I was ready to cry.

But then I got distracted by the birthday cake. Mom had made it a beautiful white and red with strawberries stuck in whipped cream all along the rim. Everybody gathered around and sang 'happy birthday' to me. Santana sang too when she thought I wasn't looking. I blew out the candles without catching fire and then the adults cut the cake. My piece looked delicious and it had the biggest strawberry on top of it. Out of nowhere my strawberry disappeared. I only saw a brown little hand snatch it, I turned around and there was Santana chewing away without the tiniest hint of shame or guilt. I really wanted to eat that strawberry but somehow I was okay with Santana taking it. I guess she wanted to have a strawberry and maybe her piece didn't have one.

After I devoured the rest of the delicious chocolate cake, I must have looked like one of Annie's poor orphan friends. My mom ordered me to get cleaned up. After doing so, I was walking by myself back towards the activities and games when Santana came out of nowhere.

For the first time she gave me a smile. It wasn't one of the beautiful ones I'd seen her do when she was happily playing with the other kids, but she was actually smiling at me! That smile must have put me into a trance because the next thing I knew I was falling backwards away from that precious smile and suddenly I was wet.

I started to scream at the top of my lungs when I realized I was in the pool and I didn't know how to swim. Santana Lopez just skipped off once her mission was complete. I seriously thought that was going to be my last birthday ever until one of Rachel's daddies fished me out of the water. I was lucky I fell into the shallow end of the pool where the water only reached my belly. I knew I should have been mad at Santana for pushing me in, but she had given me a smile and that, to me, made up for getting wet and having to watch the fun from my window the rest of the afternoon while I got dry.

That year I got so many presents; doll's, a toy fire truck, a princess tiara, a pack of twelve balloons to name a few. But my favorite was Santana's. I don't think she intended me to like her present but I got a huge kick out of it. I opened her messily wrapped box, knowing she had hand wrapped it especially for me, and pulled out a hard plastic poop; the kind with a gross green and brown color. All the other kids jumped away at the sight and started screaming. Santana's mommy was red in the face, but I just laughed. It was my favorite present and Santana had given it to me. I'd have endless opportunities to play pranks on my friends and Ms. Fellah, the cat.

When all my friends had gone home and I was wrapped up snuggly in my bed, I decided that my sixth birthday was my best yet. And even though Santana was mean to me, I still liked her and wanted her to be my friend.

**Twelve years old**

By the time I started high-school I knew I wasn't the smartest girl. My lack of intelligence and occasional word vomit turned people off. I didn't get bullied, thankfully, people just ignored me. Rachel Berry was the exception. Maybe she was able to look past my airhead ways and like me for the funny jokes I sometimes thought up, or she liked that I did everything with her. She was my best friend, sometimes my only friend. Rachel talked a lot, but I liked it. I liked the way I felt important to her. She told me everything and I told her everything. We were a bad duo though, like a double pack bait. Sometimes I would feel guilty that I was the reason Rachel didn't have many friends.

There was one time Rachel tried to change that. She had been super excited all day and giving out hand written invitations to her house for a sleepover. I honestly didn't think it'd work. I helped her put the invitations into pretty pink envelopes anyways and stood by her side as she passed them out to the kids in our class. She even dared giving one to Santana. I was kind of mad because Rachel made me do it. I told her once how I thought I might like Santana, I didn't think she'd remember but obviously she did cause she made it sound like the opportunity of a lifetime to hand Santana that invitation.

It was really scary. My hands were sweaty before I even got to her. Things with Santana hadn't changed much. We went to the same school, we didn't talk. She'd look at me sometimes and I'd look at her all the time. The biggest difference was that now Santana barely recognized my existence. I don't blame her. Our paths barely was the complete opposite of me. Where I had no friends, she was miss popular and always had guys and girls keeping her company. When I talked, people ignored me. When she said something, her people and a lot of other kids listened with intent. Her wish was everybody's command.

Sooner than I expected I was standing in front of her, eyes fixed to my shoes. I hadn't even planned what to say. I held the sweat stained invitation out to her making sure that the 'Rachel Berry' inscription was on top. I really should have said something then, but I realized I might make the exchange even more awkward. Santana reached out and held the flimsy material. Our fingers nearly touched and even though they didn't, I could feel the pressure of her hand on the envelope travel to the place where I was holding it. That was the most intimate gesture I'd ever shared with her up till that day.

Once I was sure her fingers steadily supported the thin pink envelope I let go and ran away. I heard the word 'mute' chasing me all the way to home Ec., but I don't know who said it. It was probably her.

Rachel was pretty excited that I'd successfully given Santana the invitation. She couldn't wait for the slumber party. I felt the complete opposite. I even thought of an excuse not to go. Going from no Santana to so much Santana in one day was too much for me; even if it was actually only a little bit of interaction, it still felt like a lot. Apparently, having dengue fever didn't give me a sick pass especially since my mom wouldn't vouch for me.

There were only two other girls at Rachel's sleep over, Sugar Motta whose self-diagnosed asperger's allowed her to move freely within every social circle, and Lucy who was the new girl and didn't have any other friends. We didn't think anyone else was coming until half-way through Hairspray there was a loud banging on the door.

Seeing Santana there almost gave me a heart attack. I suddenly wanted to go home, I didn't think I could handle being in the same vicinity as her for more than fifteen minutes. Santana hadn't come alone; she had her best friend Mack with her. Rachel greeted them and pointed to the sofa where I was sitting. It was big enough for all three of us, but I didn't think the house was big enough for me and her.

I cleared my throat and excused myself to get some fresh air, avoiding her gaze. I don't know how long I was out there on Rachel's porch but it was long enough for Lucy to come get me. The other's were starting on another movie and they were wondering where I'd disappeared to. I sort of thought it was strange that Rachel, my friend, hadn't come to find me herself but I brushed it off.

I sat down on the single couch where Rachel had been sitting; Lucy sat across from me on the opposite side of the coffee table with Sugar. Santana, Mack and Rachel shared the long couch.

The movie was interesting enough for me to tune out the presence of the two odd girls out and Rachel. Every now and then, I'd look and see Santana talking to Rachel – making her laugh. I got the weirdest sensation, like I didn't exist in that room and I was watching everybody else having fun.

Rachel barely talked to me for the rest of the night. Suddenly she was in Santana's little clique while I wasn't and she had forgotten me.

This happened so often, Santana would choose to be friends with someone else who wasn't me and I'd learned to live with it. Except Rachel wasn't just another girl who got to be friends with Santana, Rachel was my best friend who Santana had stolen.

I was angry at Santana and I was jealous of Rachel.

The only other thing I remember about that sleepover was the way Lucy hugged me and held my hand while we slept, even though she didn't know I was in love with Santana and that Santana had taken away my only friend.

/

My eyes were ready to close by the time the bright lights of New York City pulsated with life. I felt drained and a trail of tears had dried down both my cheeks. I didn't know I'd been crying, the bad kind of crying where it's all sadness and no anger - just real sadness. I didn't even tear any newspapers or crumple them.

Too tired to eat, I collapsed into bed still thinking about Santana and still trying to answer the same old questions – what had I done wrong and why after all these years of hating her could I not let her go?

* * *

** Too angsty? I had to explain what Brittany was feeling but next chapter unexpected things are going to happen. **

**Tell me what you think. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Second chapter, starts where the other one let off. Bare with me on the drama, the story has a happy ending :-)**

**High-five to all those who Favorited and followed. **

* * *

Chapter 2

I woke up to persistent knocking on my door. It was already unusually bright. Clutching my head, I check the time and let myself fall back into my pillow's for a few more seconds. There were five missed calls from Artie, that's who must be at the door.

"Okay," I whisper, motivating myself to get out of bed.

"Hi, Artie."

"Hey yourself gorgeous," Artie leaned back into his wheelchair.

"This is me looking my worst," I let him in and remove one of my dining chairs so he could sit at the table. "You though, are looking very handsome. Where are you going?" I gave one of the mugs of mocha in my hands to him.

"I do have a date today," He has such a nice smile when he's really happy, which is only once every month when his boyfriend is off his pilot duties or not halfway around the world. "But I wanted to check on you first since you refuse to pick up your phone. Are you okay? Because the last time it happened, you…"

"Artie, I'm fine, really." I know my smile isn't convincing but it's the best I can do.

"Fine, so what are you writing?"

"I haven't started yet."

"Come on, I want in on the deets for your new bestseller." With a sigh, I get up from the table and bring him the notes I wrote. "These are just some notes."

"Morbid," He cringes after reading the first paragraph, "You're actually going to write a story called The Truth about Santana Lopez? And Tina was okay with this?"

"She gave me the idea; do you think it's a bad idea?" Maybe if Artie put up enough of a fight I could be persuaded to drop the story. I wish I could do it on my own; unfortunately, I need someone to talk me out of it before it ruins my health and sanity.

"I think it's very different from what you've written before, umm, maybe it would feel less baleful if you changed her name." Oh yes, I forgot, Artie knows about Santana Lopez. He was the guy I opened up to when I was clearly not okay during the party for my first book's success.

"I can't do that; it wouldn't be exposing anybody otherwise."

"Do you really want to do this? You don't seem so sure."

"I'm, I don't know."

"Okay, this is what we are going to do. Tonight, Sebastian and I are going out, and you are coming with us. Maybe you just need to let loose for a little and in the morning if you still feel like you have to write this story then, I will be behind you one-hundred percent."

He had a point, I hadn't had time to relax or enjoy anything for a long time; it did not mean I wanted to go out with him and his boyfriend to a gay club. "It's alright Artie, thanks for the offer." I gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll rent a movie and get a bucket of rum raisin ice-cream; I don't want to cramp your style."

"No Britt," He's used the nickname, not good. "You need to be out, with friends, talk to people."

"I talk to people Artie," I interrupt; sometimes I wish he wouldn't act like my mom. I know I have a ton of baggage but I can deal with it in my own way. "I talk to Tina, and my fans and my mom."

"Those are not your friends. Look, don't make me waste my day convincing you to do something you will eventually give in to when Sebastian just got into town and he's dying to see me. I'll pick you up tonight at nine sharp. We're going to Slash."

"The stripper club?" I'm seriously shocked Artie would go there, he's a real goodie-goodie, top of his class, brainy guy.

"Yes, where there will be lots of naked woman."

"Are you sure you're gay?" I have to laugh, this is insane. I'm famous; I can't go to a stripper club.

"Yes, the women strippers will be for you, I already have a beautiful man. So be ready at nine." He popped his chair and wheeled through my living room like he'd just given me an ultimatum or something.

"Fine," I followed to open the door for him, "Whatever you say boss."

"I'm not your boss, only your editor in chief and best friend."

"Thank you," I kiss him on the cheek before I say goodbye and watch him disappear into the elevator.

Shaking my head at the turn of events, I decided the rest of the day could be put to good use. Whether I actually write the book or not, I still need to get the rest of story on paper or file. With sagging shoulders and another cup of coffee in hand, I get back to work.

**Sixteen years old**

Seriously, I had never been more excited in my life. This opportunity had the potential to turn my whole life around. I wouldn't be the loser girl who couldn't remember her 12 times tables any longer – I was a Cheerio. I don't actually know what possessed me to try out. Everything I knew about being a Cheerio was everything I was not. The Cheerio's were popular, the Cheerio's were envied, the Cheerio's could skip class without being punished, the Cheerio's were coach Sylvester's pets, the Cheerio's were those special people not even the teachers or the Principle could touch because the Cheerio's were the face and pride of McKinley high-school.

So, I don't know what I was thinking when I signed-up. And when I was chosen, picked, I couldn't put my happiness into words. I'd never been chosen before; finally, I knew what it felt like to be wanted. I was happy to know that Lucy also tried out and got on the squad.

We hadn't grown much closer after that night at Rachel's sleepover 2 years ago. But we did smile and said hi when we passed each other. We might have gotten to be better friends if we were in the same classes but I took regular and she took AP. Lucy was nice to me; she never made me feel inferior or stupid. She listened, like really listened unlike Rachel and she had the prettiest smile. Some day's she made me forget about Santana.

It was the first weekend of the summer and all us Cheerio's were going to camp. I got on the bus at seven am still sleepy from not getting any sleep the night before. I was really excited to go. Not many seats were filled up yet so I chose a window seat near the back. Now the adrenaline was wearing off and I was getting kind of sleepy.

Hey can I sit with you? It was Lucy or now she goes by the name of Quinn. I don't mind, it's just a name; she hadn't changed to me. Sure, I told her. I was glad to sit with her and not another girl, especially Santana.

Yes. Santana was on the squad too. When passed down the aisle to sit at the very back, I could see her and Quinn stare at each other. It's no secret those two were rivals contending for the position of head Cheerio. I didn't really care for that, I just wanted to dance and make friends.

I was asleep for the whole trip. Somewhere along the way I found myself leaning on Quinn's shoulder. I only knew when I woke up, and apologized super hard. Quinn gave me her sunshine smile, not the bitchy kind she gives to everybody else, and told me it was okay.

There was a lot of training. It was really tough. Most nights I fell asleep with coach Sylvester's voice ringing in my ear with Quinn and Santana bickering in the background. They made it clear that the two of them wanted to be captain; no one else really had a chance. Soon the girls were split into 'Team Quinn,' or 'Team Santana." I tried to be Switzerland, neutral. I refused to pick a side. It was so hard. Quinn was super nice to me, and she was pretty. I think I could have been attracted to her. But then there was Santana, bitchy and mean and gorgeous and the girl I was head over heels in love with despite everything.

In the end I had to pick a side and I ended up with Quinn. Santana was mad, like really mad and I don't know why because she didn't even like me. Of course Quinn was the better choice; she just wasn't the choice I wanted.

For a united team, the Cheerio's were pretty bad. I wondered if we could fill the shoes of our seniors.

Things gradually got better once the team started focusing on cheering and not fighting. On the last night, coach allowed us to throw a party. She had the best drinks delivered and didn't seem to care if we got drunk at 16 as long as we stayed within the property and nobody died. It was the best party I'd ever been to. I danced and drank and laughed with the other girls, even the ones who were team Santana. Everyone seemed to be a whole lot looser.

I might have been tipsy that night but I'm sure something strange happened between Quinn and Santana. I was dancing with Quinn, and I was admiring how her green eyes took on so much life. My hands were on her hips, and hers were all over the place. Sometimes they would touch my shoulder or my hair but it wasn't something I had to think about – we were having fun, I was just enjoying myself. And then I felt someone grinding into my back. I didn't mind, I only wanted to know who it was. I was shocked to see it was Santana. She looked really drunk and beautiful. Her lips were the loveliest shade of pink and I had the urge to kiss her. That was the first time I wanted to kiss anybody. Her eyes were a deep, deep brown and they were looking at me, only me. I think I stopped breathing. My body continued to move against her of its own will, I couldn't think of anything at that point except that I had two girls grinding up against me and I liked it a lot – also that I wanted to kiss the shit out of one of them.

Do you want to get more punch? Quinn asked me, her hand was already pulling me away from Santana. I pulled back, I knew I hurt her by doing that and then I was standing in the middle of the floor with Santana on my right and Quinn on my left. The three of us were just standing there as if waiting for me to make a decision. I wasn't thinking about choosing anyone, the only thing running through my head was, I'm gay. And then I felt the room closing around me and spinning.

Get her some water, Santana said to Quinn. She left immediately leaving me with Santana.

Santana lead me outside where I could breathe. I shut my eyes and focused, in and out. Are you okay? I wanted to say yes but I really wasn't okay with her looking at me all concerned and with a quiver in her voice. Her face was so close.

There was a loud banging behind us, I almost felt relieved until I realized it wasn't Quinn. Some of the hardcore team Santana girls came bursting through. They seemed really happy and drunk.

Let's go for that walk, one of the girls said and all the other's agreed. Come on Santana, you were the one who came up with the idea.

I wished the words had sounded strange to me then, but they didn't. They were just talking about going on a walk.

We should bring her with us, another girl said and they helped me to stand up straight. I was feeling a bit better, but I was concerned that Quinn wouldn't be able to find me. I started to object but Santana insisted I come along. I really should have read the signs; I guess I was never really good at doing those things.

So Brittany, are you gay for Quinn? One of the girls asked me. I was completely shocked. How could they know I was gay when I only realized it fifteen minutes ago? No, I said immediately. I didn't want them to get me wrong, not about being gay but about being gay for Quinn.

Oh, because you two are always together and this is not an insult but being clingy gives off the wrong vibe.

Shut up, Santana told her. Brittany, she can do whatever she wants.

What, I just don't want her to get hurt because people misunderstand her. Why do you care anyways? The girl dropped to a whisper, but I could still hear her. She's special, don't hurt her. Santana replied and I almost turned around to check that she really said it.

Thanks, I said knowing Santana couldn't hear me. She was making me feel all fuzzy inside because she stood up for me. I remained contentedly silent for the rest of the walk. I should have realized when things had gotten too quiet, when all I could hear were the bugs and rustling of leaves in the wind. That's when I knew that they were all gone. I searched for them in the darkness but I didn't know where I was or which way I had come. It hit me that they had abandoned me in the middle of the forest, all alone in the dark.

I think I found a large tree with roots coming out of the ground and sat there. I didn't know where to go or if I should call for help, that might alert some dangerous animals and I didn't want to be eaten. So I sat there, crying. I was angry with Santana for making me think she might actually want to be my friend, I was angry at myself for being so naïve. It was their plan all along, and Santana had gone with it. Just when I thought I might get through to her, she showed me she didn't want anything to do with me.

It could have been a few minutes or a few hours, it made no difference to me. Once Quinn and some other girls found me I'd already cried my heart out. It seemed to be a replay of an old video tape, Santana would hurt me and Quinn would be the one to pick me up. I thought maybe I should forget about Santana completely, maybe if I tried to like Quinn in that way I would be happy.

**Seventeen Years Old**

You know, one moment can make you change your whole perspective on something? I always thought Santana was a regular bitchy kid, rich and spoiled, getting whatever she wanted from whoever she wanted. She had the clothes and the boys and the attention. She didn't care about people like me, the bottom dwellers.

I had been the new topic of the month, Brittany the gay girl – little Miss lezzie. I don't know where the rumors originated but soon all the Cheerio girls who were team Santana and even some who were team Quinn started vocalizing their discomfort with me being on the team. Maybe it was my fault I didn't lie and say I was straight, like why would I have to come out and say I was gay when straight people didn't have to announce their straightness. It didn't make sense to me so I didn't say anything.

My silence fueled the rumors and lead to bullying.

Dumpster's and ice-cold slushies weren't familiar territory before, but they came to be regular occurrences pretty fast. It was rough not having a voice. Rachel tried to be an activist against bullying and got involved but she started getting the same treatment. It should have brought us closer, but it didn't. She resented standing up for me and I still couldn't forgive her for choosing Santana all those years ago.

Usually when those things happened, I took care of myself or Quinn would be there to help me.

There was one time though that I got rainbow slushies, that's what they're called when they come in the seven colors of the rainbow, to the face. I got instant brain-freeze. My knees hit the ground hard because I couldn't control my landing, my head hurt so bad I thought it might explode. The stuff was in my ears, in my eyes, my nose – everywhere. Someone, who I thought was Quinn because I could see red and white, ushered me to the bathroom and began wiping me off. She was so gentle; she didn't say anything but there was care in her touch. I finally got over the brain freeze; my mind started to work again. I was taken aback to see that my rescuer was none other than Santana Lopez.

We just sat in silence while she cleaned me off; she had even got a towel from somewhere. When there was nothing more to be done, I opened my mouth to say thank you but she was gone. Sighing, I made sure my body was functioning okay. My neck still moved, I could see and hear and my arms obeyed me. Something on my left forearm caught my attention; it was a simple word – Sorry.

The slushies still came but not very often from the Cheerio's, Santana probably had a hand in that. I didn't know if I was mad or glad that she had the power to make my life miserable or not. She confused me so much, one minute she doesn't recognize my existence and the next she's caring for me. I wondered if Santana Lopez would always be a mystery, if I would ever know why she did these things.

**Eighteen years old.**

I Brittany S. Pierce was on cloud nine. Quinn put the final touches to my face and I looked in the mirror, everything was just perfect. I gave Quinn a kiss on the cheek which she returned on my forehead.

You are graduating Brittany, I told you to believe in yourself and here you are. Quinn looked like a proud mama and I was proud of myself for not letting her down. Quinn had to be the best thing in my life ever.

Are you nervous? Yes, I nodded.

Aren't you? You have to give that valley speech in front of everybody. Quinn laughed, valley speech, she repeated. I knew I'd said it wrong but she didn't try to correct me, it didn't matter because we were graduating high-school today.

And then, I we are going to be amazing in New York, she said.

Yes, you are going to be awesome in university and I'm going to make money for us.

It does sound amazing doesn't it? Quinn smiled at me. I know you don't have to do this for us but, I'm really glad you're coming with me. You know I love you.

Of course, I replied. I did love Quinn even if she could never love me in that way, which was fine because I might be able to, but I really didn't feel that way about her either. We talked about it; she even let me kiss her to get it out of my system. It was a nice kiss but it wasn't the way I imagined a kiss would feel like. I didn't get tingles or see fireworks, it was just nice. Now, if I got a chance to kiss Santana…I'd daydreamed and night-dreamed about that a lot. And now that I was graduating it seemed I would never know because I was going to New York with Quinn and I didn't know what Santana's plans were.

Graduation passed like a dream . Quinn had given a great speech about taking life by the balls and doing things for fuck's sake because life's too short and we should all chase our dreams. She didn't say it like that of course, that was just me paraphrasing. It really got to me, the part about doing things for fucks sake. In the evening we all went to Noah Puckerman's house to party. So I decided, this was my last chance to confront Santana and I was going to take it.

Noah Puckerman's parties were always bombing. I was really having fun with Quinn till I saw Santana coming downstairs, musing her hair all sexy like. She sent a dazzling smile my way and I probably would have floated to her if I could but I snapped out of it when I realized Puck was standing behind me and the smile was for him. My heart dropped into my stomach and so I grabbed Quinn to get more drinks. I got really drunk after that just because I didn't want to see Santana's happy face when she danced with Puck or when she was silly with her friends, or when her friends gave her a queen of the bitches' crown. The next thing I knew, Santana was going off to the bathroom and I was following her. I had to let her know about what I felt if she didn't know already; I had to take my chance while I could.

My arm blockaded the bathroom door before it could fully close, Santana looked confused and then surprised when I stepped in with her and locked the door. I was breathing hard because I had run to catch up with her.

Brittany? She said. I didn't know what to do, should I tell her first or kiss her first? Being drunk was not helping me make that decision.

If you need help, I can get Quinn.

No, I said. She was standing right there and I had come this far. I was not going to be a coward. Santana?

Yes, she said with a shaky voice. I stepped closer towards her, she didn't step back. I leaned in, closer and closer. I could see a storm brewing behind her dark chocolate eyes. Tell me to stop, I said with no intention of stopping. My lips were a mere breath away from hers and I closed my eyes. She didn't tell me to stop, she didn't say anything. I was going to close the distance when I felt her soft, warm lips on mine. I froze, Santana Lopez was kissing me.

And then she did it again, this time fully, swallowing my thin lips with her puckered ones. It was the thing I wanted for so long and now that it was happening I couldn't believe it. I kissed her up against the wall and she let me. I pushed my tongue into her mouth and she let me. I brought my hands up to touch her face, her neck, her hair, her chest, and she let me do all of it. Then I felt her hands in my hair and I was gone. I don't know how long we kissed but it wasn't enough, I had gotten an inch and I wanted a mile.

Santana, I've been in love with you since the first day I saw you, come home with me, I said it with no fear. If she didn't feel something for me too then she wouldn't have let me kiss her, she wouldn't have kissed me back, I'm sure.

She pushed me off her for the first time that night. In her eyes was a different turmoil, one threatening to make her spill tears. I'm sorry, Brittany…I can't.

I don't know why I was surprised with her rejection. She had never even shown interest in me before so why did I feel like she should now? I stood there, unable to speak or move.

I don't like you Brittany; you are everything I do not like. There's a reason we aren't friends.

I'm still waiting for that explanation; I've been waiting for thirteen years, I finally found my voice.

I raised it not caring that anyone else could hear me. Why don't you like me? Why couldn't we be friends for all this time? Why are you so mean to me?

Her jaw tightened, I knew what that meant – she was closing up. Get out of here Brittany; I don't want to see you ever again. LEAVE!

I didn't move I refused to; she was going to answer me now.

This, she pointed a finger in my face. Because you annoy me, you're always looking at me with your sad puppy eyes, always trying to get my attention without saying or doing anything. You distract me, I can't think when I'm around you, and you make my life difficult. That is why I can't be friends with you.

I was stunned, she brushed past me slamming the door shut behind her and that was the last time I saw her. I had to accept that I had been delusional all along and that it was time for me to move on.

/

This time I couldn't control my emotions. I ripped four sheets of newspaper in half and crumpled them into a ball. I threw it across the room as far as I could. I did it several times; I just had to stop thinking about her. It also brought another emotion out of me, I missed Quinn. If she were still here she would be able to tell me what to do.

I felt all my strength leave me. I got up from my chair and wandered into the kitchen. I didn't feel like eating anything which was weird because I love eating and I only had two coffees today. My stomach should be giving me hunger signals at three in the afternoon.

Sitting on the couch, I turned on the television to create noise. The crying had made my eyes swollen and so I shut them. I drifted off into an uneasy sleep filled with images of my life up to this point, me on this couch crying pathetically. I really needed to get out and about.

Half past eight I was ready to get drunk. I would have started before Artie and Sebastian came but it would have been rude to drink before company came. I sat there in jean my mini-skirt, low, black V neck spaghetti strap and a black leather jacket. I had done my make up lightly and had on some red stilettos. I felt rested and ready to take on the night.

The door bell rung at five till and I rushed to open it. There were Artie and Sebastian, handsomest pair of boys I'd ever met.

"Hey Brittany, nice seeing you again," Sebastian gave me a hug which I returned; I stooped down to hug Artie too. We became close over the course of five years working together.

"Shall we go?"

/

Slash was a stripper club with a BDSM theme, red lights flashed over shiny metal and barbs. It gave you an exciting feeling when you stepped in.

"How do you even know about this place?" I asked Artie.

"I'm a Yankee Britt, I know these things."

"It's good because I may travel a lot but I don't know much about the places I go to. If I didn't have Artie I'd get lost in this city." Sebastian winked at his boyfriend and wheeled him over to a table close to the stage. "I'll get us some drinks." He said before taking off.

"He's a keeper,"

"I know which is why I put up with his long absences. Every time he comes back and I get to be with him, I'm reminded all over again why I love him."

"I'm so happy you have Sebastian," I said. I really was. Being able to love someone who loves you back is a precious thing. It just wasn't for me.

"Hey, one day, you are going to find someone too. You just have to give yourself a chance." Artie squeezed my hand. Sebastian came back with drinks in time for the start of the show.

"You better enjoy this Brittany because I'm paying," Artie laughed, "pick a good one."

"I can pay for a dance if I want one," I rolled my eyes at Artie.

"Nope, I know you won't so I'm paying for you. Keep your eyes open, that red head is sexy."

"Yes she is," Sebastian added. They both laughed and I couldn't help but laugh at their silliness as well. They made such a good couple.

The dance finished and I couldn't say I didn't enjoy it. The three margaritas' might have also helped. I was feeling lucid and refreshed.

"Come on, which one?"

"She's going to choose the busty brunette." Sebastian whispered.

"Why are you talking like a porno?" I slammed my hand down in a fit of laughter. "You would make a good narrator, like, the busty brunette going down on the blonde babe."

"Let's just go with the brunette," Sebastian told Artie who waved her down.

"Lap dance for this one here," I heard him say. I really couldn't focus on anything except the scratches on the table beneath me.

"Room 21," I heard her voice raspy and delicious. I loved her voice, if I liked her enough I might even buy her for the whole night just so I could fuck her and fuck Santana out of my mind.

"Brittany," Artie shook me till I gained some soberness, "go to room 21 and enjoy."

"Thanks, you are the bestest of bestie best friends I've ever had." I kissed Artie on the cheek and hugged Sebastian. "I hope you guys have some awesome man sex, super hot man sex."

Sebastian shook his head and pushed me in the direction of the backrooms. "Go, it's just a dance. We'll be here when you get out."

"Okay," I slipped through the thick curtain then found the room labeled 21 at the end of the long hall. The girl was standing with her back to me playing with the sound control. I didn't know if it was _my_ busty brunette but I trusted Artie knew which one I had been drooling over during the show.

"So should I sit down or?"

"On the couch," she said with her sugary voice. Ummm, I seriously considered taking her home with me.

The lights were low, making the experience all the more gratifying. I couldn't wait for the girl to be dancing on top of me then maybe I could do a move or two on her. As she got nearer I could only focus on the way her boobs seemed to be spilling from her bra, either she was really big or her bra was too small.

"Like what you see?" she smirked and sat on my lap. Almost instantly she sprung off of me.

"Where are you going?" I asked. She seemed to be stumped.

"I…I'll get one of the other girls, I just…"

"No," I got up, "I chose you so I want you." I marched right to where she stood statue still. Only when I got a good look at her face did I recognize who she was.

"Santana, you're a stripper?"

* * *

**Plot twist**

**A/N: About Quinn, I don't want to explain what happens to her because she's not really relevant to the story. I can add an explanation in the next chapter if people want it though. **


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Santana Lopez?" There really wasn't anything else to say in that moment. How do you small talk with someone you planned on never seeing again in your life time? Then the hilariousness of the situation hit me. I was drunk and Santana was a stripper, we were in a private room and she was supposed to give me a lap dance. I couldn't control myself anymore and broke down laughing. "Is this really happening?" I asked her knowing full well I was not comatose or imagining things.

"Brittany," That one word, from her lips and those intense eyes nullified me completely. Oh my god, why did my name sound so perfect coming from her? "I have to go,"

"No stay," I reached out my hand to touch her. This was not at all how I imagined meeting her again would be. I always thought that if I ever saw her again I would explicitly tell her how she broke my heart and walk away. Since I hadn't planned for that ever happening I was stuck. She opened her mouth to protest again and I could feel her pulling away. Her eyes were clouded with so many things, I couldn't tell.

"You owe me a dance," Surprisingly, she yanked her arm out of my grasp and shook her head. "I'll return the money, here." She retrieved the money from inside her bra. I was tempted to touch the bills and probably cherish them forever; maybe put them in a glass frame because those bills had touched places I would never have the chance to touch. God, am I actually jealous of inanimate objects now?

"I want my dance," I don't know why I wasn't giving up. Wouldn't it be better if we didn't have to deal with each other? Wouldn't it be less painful if I walked away now?

"Fine, I'll get another girl." Santana turned quickly almost racing out the door. My limbs kicked into action and I dove to stop her. She ended up in my arms. I was holding her tightly from behind, I could smell the perfume on her neck and it was giving me unexplainable shivers. "I don't want another girl, you owe me this dance. It'll never be enough but you owe me."

"I don't owe you anything," She gulped. We both knew this had stopped being about the service she was supposed to give me.

"But you do, I gave you money. You can't just return it or give it to someone else. I don't want anybody else." I almost took it back. Santana must have caught how I spoke in the present tense. I didn't plan to but it just came out.

She wiggled a bit so I loosened my grip on her. She turned around to face me. Her eyes instantly dropped to my lips, but quickly came up to meet mine again. I didn't dare think that she may want to kiss me after so long. The last time we saw each other _that_ had happened and she had run away. "Brittany, go sit down," she had a look of pain as she spoke, "I can give you this, but you can't ask anymore of me."

"Okay," I said not because I was really okay with it but it was better than nothing. I realized how pathetic I was for grasping at straws, for wanting as much as I could get from her.

I let her go and retraced my steps back to the couch. Santana turned away from me and spent a minute to recollect herself then she went to the music station and pressed play on her chosen song again. My eyes locked with hers. She was wearing her game face but I could see right through it. Her movements weren't easy and relaxed as she approached me, she was trying so hard. The smirk on her face didn't make me feel excited or like I was about to receive the best sexual display of my life, it all just felt empty.

She now hovered over me, hips swaying and moving in circles never touching my lap. She put her hands on the couch trapping my view so all I could see and smell was her. Her upper body was pressed nearly against mine and I was reminded again of how lucky those dollar bills had been. She must have read my mind because I could hear her whispering in my ear, I could feel her hot breath and suddenly she had found my switch and turned me on.

"I'd like you to put the money into my bra, don't be shy, you know you can touch." Her voice, her confident sex-oozing voice, dissolved my ability to think rationally. "You can touch anything you want."

My hand moved of its own will towards her chest. It looked great, that's all I could think about. The two soft round mounds were calling to me. My eyes were already permanently attached to them. Cautiously I rolled up the bills and slipped them in between her breasts. I made sure I did not touch her, just watched those pieces of paper get all the action.

Santana groaned, like full out groaned when my hand retracted back to my side. "I'm not a leper; I'm not going to give you diseases. Touch me." I realized she was feeling as turned on as I was. Two could play this game.

"I'll touch anywhere you want me to, but you have to tell me." The air was thick with our labored breathes and we hadn't even touched yet. "Take off my top," she was daring me, waiting for me to chicken out. I brought my hands to her hips where her shirt was riding up a bit and a delicious strip of tanned skin was showing. As if tentatively touching a burning hot pan, I dragged my fingers along the hem of her top, watching her reaction. Her lip quivered and her row of pearly whites bit down on her bottom lip to contain a moan.

Inch by inch I rolled her top up revealing more and more skin. I focused on breathing because this certainly could lead me to pass out. When the cloth rested against her under boob, I searched her eyes for permission to touch her exposed skin. She gave a slight nod.

I don't know how to describe the feeling. Her skin was smooth as butter, her muscles defined and solid. She shivered visibly above me as I made careful strokes, up and down to the rhythm of the music.

I was just enjoying the intimacy of it all when the song came to an end. My heart dropped knowing that meant my time was up. I already was thinking of asking her for more time, I would pay her as much as she wanted – I just didn't want it to end.

Santana got off me, I thought I saw relief amongst the built up tension. She stopped in front of the music player and I waited for her to tell me to leave. One minute turned into two and still she didn't say anything. Maybe I was supposed to have left already.

"Santana," I wasn't one to beg, especially beg from _her_ but I couldn't help it, "can I have one more dance? Just one more, I promise." A new song began to play. Santana put down the remote and walked purposefully back to the couch, there was no smile this time – nothing but conflicted emotions. To say I was sorry for emotionally blackmailing her to do it again would be a lie. I wanted her to know how I felt every time she looked at me before, like she was the worst and best thing in the world.

Santana started again, this time she focused on touching herself, playing with her hair and stroking her body. She closed her eyes and continued her solo performance. I knew she wouldn't mind if I touched her, the look on her face told me she was begging for it so I put both my palms on her stomach. My fingers crawled up and slipped under her top. I moved my hands over her chests, up under her arms and finally her shoulders. She aided me in removing the piece of clothing and instantly grabbed my hands to place them back on her. Her body was amazing, my hands couldn't stay in one place for long – they wanted to touch everything.

I made quick work of her barely there jean skirt as well, revealing toned legs. I wanted to lick them from one end to the other. When she topped me again, Santana fully grinded into my lap - no space between us. I knew I was wet beyond saving.

I never thought I'd get to experience this, Santana in nothing but bra and underwear dancing on me. I lost controls of my hands as they journeyed from her neck to the apex of her thighs, where her g-strings left nothing to the imagination.

My finger dragged through her wetness and she moaned loudly. I don't think I'd ever get used to that sound. I did it again and again, circling out to other places and returning to her wet heat. She was working up to her limit; I could tell by the way her dancing was interrupted by a jolt or shiver every so often.

Deciding to spare her from going over the edge too soon, I began to work on her ass. The muscles were unbelievably tight. I may have loved that ass more than her boobs, I don't know – it was a hard decision. I squeezed and stroked her bare ass then moved back up to her chest. I felt ready to combust from the heat of her body and my raging hormones. I hadn't even been touched down there.

Her hair had fallen over her face which wouldn't do because that face was as perfect as a sculpture. I brushed it away so I could see her lips, her nose, and her eyes. She relaxed into my touch, encouraging me to keep stroking her. I wandered across her cheeks where the bone protruded out too much for my liking, touching her jaw, and reaching around her neck. We were so close; we were sharing the same air. I know we both had been holding out on this moment. We both knew we would regret it the minute it was done but the desire was uncontrollable. I let my eyelids flicker and shut as I pulled her jaw closer to me. I licked my lips so ready to taste her again after all these years. Then there was silence. I opened my eyes and it was as if we were transfixed in that moment, neither able to make the final move.

"You can give the money to the desk, they'll give it to me later," her head dropped onto my shoulder before she got off me. I couldn't believe we didn't kiss. I understood there were things keeping her from taking the plunge and I had a million reasons for not taking the chance either. There was too much past between us that neither of us could move on from. But we could have, defied everything and just done it.

"That's it?" I was surprising myself left and right this evening. I couldn't expect more from her but why did I?

"What do you want me to say Brittany," her voice became cold and unfeeling. She reminded me of the girl in high-school whose memories I buried away a long time ago.

"If you don't know what to say to me after all this time, then I guess I was wrong about you, and you are exactly who you showed yourself to be in high-school."

"Do not pretend for a second that you know me," her anger was sizzling over the top but I wasn't going to back down. I was ready to have this conversation ten years ago. "We were not friends, ever. We barely talked to each other. Stop acting like we had a special connection, because I certainly didn't feel it towards you." She gulped and I knew that was a lie.

"Okay then, goodbye Santana." I wanted to slap her, shake her – make her see how deep in denial she was. That is all I wanted even if we didn't have a second chance, at least I would know for sure that she had feelings for me too and that I wasn't hanging on a thread this whole time for nothing. "This job suits you; it's perfect for someone who can't respect themselves." I knew it was a low blow and I shouldn't have said it. Still, my pride refused to let me apologize and retract the words. I did an about face and marched out the door.

"I never asked you to fall in love with me." The words burned through my chest. I stopped walking, and without turning back, spoke loud enough for her to hear me, "If I had known there was nothing more underneath that mask you wore then I would have never fallen in love with you." This time I knew that I was lying but I wanted to her to feel the sting of rejection.

The next day I woke up with an incredible headache and a gay boy on either side of my bed. "What are you two doing in my apartment?"

"We didn't want to leave you last night; apparently that stripper got you good." Why did they both have very amused smirks on their faces? Oh my god, what did I spill to them last night?

"Okay, we are having a conversation about that in just a moment. Let me dunk my head in cold water first." I got up and walked unsteadily to the bathroom.

"Whatever you say, there will be a nice cup of coffee waiting for you when you get out." Sebastian said and wheeled Artie out of my room.

I splashed water on my face in hopes that the nightmares of last night would fade away. It's always the bad ones that stick, the good ones are always over and forgotten. My dream last night had been filled with Santana and with Quinn. Those were the worst. It was like looking at a picture and seeing the contrast. Santana was the dark colors, saturated, complex, and bad for me while Quinn was the light colors, fluffy, wholesome and good for me. The events of my life revolving around those two kept playing out - Quinn, Santana, Quinn, Santana - and then at the end it was just me, alone. I usually woke up, pillow soaked through and unable to breathe but in the end both Santana and Quinn were gone.

"Brittany Pierce," I scolded myself in the mirror, "get a grip on yourself, it happened years ago. There's nothing you can do about it now." I squeezed my eyes shut; collecting the last memories I had of her. It wasn't supposed to happen this way; I wasn't supposed to end up in New York alone.

Against my will, I recalled making the final touches on our apartment – hanging up our pictures. Our new home phone rang for the first time and I was excited to pick it up knowing it would be Quinn, she was the only one who knew that number. Then everything spiraled out of control, it was some police officer asking me if I knew a Lucy Quinn Fabray. He said she'd had a car accident and was now in the hospital. I told him I'd be there. I got the earliest flight out to Lima with our emergency money and was there in less than 24 hours but it was too late. The doctors tried to explain that the truck had hit the driver's side head on and that there had been too much internal bleeding. All I knew was that Quinn was gone. I stayed in Lima for the funeral and after that because I was completely lost, without Quinn I didn't know what to do. My mom finally convinced me to go back to New York; she said it was the kind of change I needed to get over Quinn's death. I remember walking back into our apartment and seeing everything Quinn and I had worked hard to create together. It was too much, I moved out immediately.

The next two years had been my 'dark ages'. I must have held twenty odd jobs, from volunteering and living at the homeless shelter to being the secretary for some non-profit organization hotshot. The last job I had was the writer for the special interest column of the New York Times. I got that job through a one night drunken discussion with April Rhodes who took me under her wing.

It occurred to me that even though Quinn died and it should have turned me into a depressed person, I got over it and was able to live again. She always had that positive impact on me. I knew I couldn't be depressed because somewhere in the universe Quinn would be glaring at me for wasting my life. She had gotten me through high-school and now she wanted me to live. I was okay because I knew she was in a better place and that she would never be far from me, she would always be in my heart.

"Brittany, are you okay in there? Artie sent me to check on you." Sebastian's voice brought me back to the present. I put on a brave smile, "Coming right out."

I still had a bad buzz in my brain when I joined Artie and Sebastian at the breakfast table.

"Eat first and then we'll talk. I have business to matters to speak of." Artie told me.

The two of them sat there watching me eat a very British breakfast of boiled eggs and buttered toast. "So, you guys are just going to sit there and be creepy?" I asked mouth full of toast.

"Fine we can talk business." Artie cleared his throat.

"Wait; tell me what I told you last night about the stri…girl."

"Oh you didn't say much. If perchance she went missing the only description I could give the police would be she has a firm, round, fantastic ass and gloriously bouncy, fucking fantastic boobs." That did not sound at all appealing coming from a gay man, he was really lacking the tone of appreciation for Santana's boobs and ass. Oh god, why am I thinking about her in that way again so early in the morning?

"Okay good, that really was all there was to know about her." I dismissed the topic, "So, what do you have Artie. I feel bad enough you guys stayed here last night. I promise I didn't hear anything so it's cool if you know…did it…here." Both their faces burned bright red. "I don't want you to waste any more of your day."

"Right," Artie collected his thoughts after I blindsided him, I didn't mean to. I was just being honest. "So, Tina wants to know the final decision for the book. You don't have to have a decision now; I know you probably weren't sleeping on it last night. But if you can confirm today…"

"Oh, it's fine. I can confirm right now." I took a giant gulp of coffee; I did not feel guilty at all about this decision. After all, last night Santana hadn't been guilty about all the things she had done to me. "I'm writing the book."

"Are you sure? Because you can take more…"

"I don't need more time. I'm going to write the book." Artie looked at Sebastian and they had a silent conversation. It's not like I didn't know they were discussing the hazards of letting me release a potentially psycho story.

"Okay, well in that case Tina wants a sample of the book to give exclusively to the New York Times. You know they are your biggest fans and it'll be great promotion. Also," Artie smiled nervously, "Tina wants you to use an alias for her name." No, I almost shouted. I was not going to change her name in the story. What would be the purpose of revealing the truth about her then?

"We'll just tell everyone that Santana Lopez is the alias." I said stubbornly. Artie nodded, he usually gave me what I wanted.

"So, we're all set," He moved around the table to give me a kiss goodbye. "Get some rest and write when you're ready genius mastermind."

"Have a good day budgies," I hollered after the two boys as they left.

/

It's been two weeks since that fateful day…er, night. Santana may have thrown me off my game but I was certainly back in it now. I had completed the first two chapters of the story and an excerpt had been sent to the New York Times. Tina was stoked about the progress and Artie was being really supportive, really, he was doing coffee runs (I would never ask a guy in a wheel chair to go up and down 30 floors three times a day) and calling me every night to make sure I wasn't too stressed.

I was busy writing when I felt the need to take a walk. I put on a coat and checked that my appearance was acceptable (no bags under my eyes, great). There weren't many places to go without risking running into paparazzi so I thought I'd just stay in the building, get an apple-cinnamon doughnut, maybe check my mail box. I hadn't done that in a month, it was probably bursting with fan-mail.

As I expected, my box was full and there was some more that hadn't fit which the guy at the office kindly (sort of, I was hoping there wasn't that much more but yeah, there was a lot) put in a grocery bag for me. I got the doughnut but then decided to get a whole box of one dozen because I could be reading letters all day. I needed something to deal with the crazy, sort of like you need popcorn when you're going to the movies.

I threw all the letters onto the dining table and was going to open the doughnut box when my phone rang. "Oh, hey Tina!"

"Hey Brittany," She sounded awfully cheerful, "I need you to check your mailbox. I know you can be forgetful about…"

"Well, you're lucky my Alzheimer's let up today and I actually remembered that I had a mailbox." I said sarcastically. Sometimes that was the only way to deal with overbearing Tina.

"So you checked?"

"Yep, why are you so interested in my mailbox?"

"Two words, re-view. Bye!"

"That's not two words!" It was no use, she'd already hung up. I hated when she said 'two words' because it usually signaled something I didn't want to know. Like this one time she said _'got laid'_, totally inappropriate to tell your client, and yeah I was rooting for her and Biker, no Ryder, but I didn't need to know that they did it.

Technically she didn't say two words so maybe it wouldn't be bad this time.

I rummaged through the mail to find today's edition of the New York Times lying randomly there. I don't read the news or listen to it, most days Artie tells me the important things that go on in the world; he's a great resource. I opened the paper and turning the pages over till I saw the article 'Brittany Pierce and her dark side.'

The review was great. April Rhodes, my drinking friend, wasn't one to kiss anybody's ass and she usually told it how it was. I knew I should be smiling really big because she gave me five stars for the excerpt and put my book on the list of 'most anticipated books of 2014'. At least Tina would be happy about it but I just felt well …satisfied that everybody else liked it.

I set the newspaper in the pile with the outdated ones I would abuse later whenever I got frustrated. Getting back to my fan letters, I pulled open the box of doughnuts and chose a chocolate covered one with rainbow sprinkles. I had only taken a bite when there was heavy slamming on my door.

With a sigh I put down the letter and went to open it.

"Santana?" Before I knew it, my dark haired, princess charming pushed me aside and stormed into my apartment.

"What the hell Brittany?" She was shaking violently. Either she was having a seizure or she was really mad. I think it was the latter.

"Woah, how did you find out where I live?"

"That doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters, if you blackmailed someone to get my address or let you up then I can sue you, I think."

"Your address is publicly listed, because you're the famous Brittany Pierce." Santana then pulled something from behind her back that looked eerily like the morning newspaper. "This, who gave you the right to ruin my life like this?"

"Are you seriously mad about this article?" I tried to make light of the situation. This was dangerous territory that I had never been in and I was alone, what I would give for Artie to come check on me now – too bad he was out of town. "No one even knows it's about you."

"Oh yeah? It clearly says Santana Lopez," She took two steps and grabbed the collar of my shirt. That was not cool. "Imagine me walking into Slash and having everyone look at me differently. They're saying _Santana Lopez, now I know why you ended up at a stripper club. Fitting end for a naughty, naughty girl._"

I couldn't stand it, she had no right to march into my apartment and get physical with me. "Get off me now," I pushed her away a bit too hard, she stumbled back a few steps before she found her balance. "You have to leave before I call security."

"You don't want to do that; I could sue you for ruining my name." She shoved her finger in my face.

"Really? Did you not read the part where it says it's a work of fiction? Besides, I doubt anyone in Slash is reading the New York Times. Don't you guys read Cosmo for really great sex advice to use on your clients? Go ahead; you'll look stupid for getting worked up over a fictional character."

And then it came – the slap. "You did not just do that." I said. My patience had reached its limits.

"Brittany, someone needs to slap some sense into you. Get over your little revenge trip. It was ages ago, okay? And this is just way over the top; you make it sound like I tortured you."

"No Santana, you listen to me." I gripped her shoulders and pushed her against the wall. This was going to happen now, and if I was ever going to get over her, this was the moment to do it. "You were always caught up in your own little world. I was never important to you, but I tried, and you just pretended I didn't exist. You say you didn't torture me, but being invisible to you was the worst kind of torture. I would have preferred it if you threw slushies in my face, wrote disgusting things about me on the bathroom walls, or openly humiliated me in front of the Cheerios. At least I would have known that you considered my existence." I was shaking and crying. I could see Santana taking it all in. She had deep lines forming on her forehead.

"How was I supposed to know Brittany?" She shouted back at me, "I dealt with you the only way I knew how. And you know what? You're just as much to blame." I couldn't believe she was putting this on me. "While you were in your little world, being pitiful and thinking nobody cared about you, I was struggling with the thought of you. Did you ever think about how hard it was for me? My life was not perfect, I may have pretended it was but it wasn't."

"Santana, you are…" I couldn't even describe her without breaking into rage again. "If that's all you have to say to me then I need you to leave."

"I'm not leaving until you stop writing the book or change the name."

"You have no right to tell me what I can or can't do. And I need this. This book, it's like my therapy. I need to write it. It's a painful process but if I don't write it I won't be able to let go. I don't know if I'll feel any better after it's done but there's a chance. I need to finally move on."

"What if you don't have to move on Brittany?" The words had created a shift in the atmosphere. I looked at Santana just to make sure I heard correctly.

"I don't understand," Here she was giving me hope again, the truth was, I was too tired to keep holding on – one more possibility, one more maybe – I was done.

"What if I told you that I…" Her eyes refused to meet mine. "That night at Puck's graduation party, I told you that you made my life difficult and that's why we couldn't be friends. The truth is that I couldn't be just friends with you. I had feelings for you that I couldn't act upon so I stayed away. I thought I was doing us both a favor."

This information was way too much for me to handle. I paced around the dining table, madly trying to make sense of it all. "Keeping me in the dark, making me believe I wasn't good enough for you, that was doing me a favor?"

"Brittany, if you had known your stubborn, persistent self would have tried to make us work when it never would have. I would have just hurt you, and I never wanted to hurt you."

"You're lying, you're lying. I don't know what you're getting out of saying all this but you're …I can't accept it. This is you playing with my heart again. I don't need you Santana; I've been coping with my feelings for you for this long. Your lies are not going to make me feel better; they aren't going to fix me."

"Brittany," Santana grabbed my waist and pushed me onto the table. I was stunned. I didn't get a chance to process what was happening when her lips approached mine at lightning speed. We collided in a hot mess of lips, tongues, and tears. Her hand was behind my neck, pulling me into her. I didn't care if I never breathed again. I had never kissed anyone with as much passion as I kissed her.

My worthless protests were swallowed by her touch – her presence. "Brittany, I need you to hear me out okay?" She said before diving back in to tangle my tongue with hers. "Forget what happened in high-school, for just a minute listen to me – really listen." She pulled back. There were tears in her eyes, and the way she looked at me, she was 100% serious. Her hands cradling my face did nothing to calm down the eradicate beating of my heart. "The first time I knew I was in love with you was on your sixth birthday, when I did all that crap to you and gave you that stupid present I thought you'd hate and you didn't – you loved it – that's when I knew. You, Brittany Pierce, the girl who had everything I didn't have, was perfect on top of all that. I couldn't handle it. I did what I did best, I pushed you away. I didn't give you a chance and I'm sorry. I was a stupid kid and a stupid teenager; you can't hold that against me."

"And what about now? Am I just supposed to forgive you?" She could say as much as she wanted about the past but I needed to know where we stood now. "We aren't teenagers anymore, what are we doing?"

"No. I need to prove myself. But we're adults and we're going to deal with it like adults."

"I don't understand."

"Brittany, I don't do feelings but if it will convince you, even the smallest bit that I never meant to hurt you then I'm going try and put my feelings into words. I always felt I wasn't good enough Brittany; you deserved someone who would make you happy, who wouldn't abandon you in the middle of the god-forsaken woods only to feel guilty and tell your best friend where to find you instead of going herself – someone who would be proud to hold your hand and call you their girlfriend. I wasn't that person in high-school, but Brittany, I've been through a lot and I'm not a coward anymore. So this is me telling you that I never forgot you, I'm saying that after seeing you again ten years later, I'm still so in love with you it hurts. That night at Slash after you left I went home and cried because I never thought I'd see you again and when I did I let my pride get in the way. I didn't mean a word I said to you that night and you've been on my mind ever since. Seeing that article, seeing how much I must have hurt you was the catalyst. I wanted to be mad – I was mad, but not at you. I was mad that I was the reason you were writing such a hate filled book in the first place. It's my fault. So Brittany, this is me apologizing. This is me saying I'm going to try and fix this because I can't live with myself knowing I didn't even try."

"Santana," I shook my head, she was saying too many things that I couldn't comprehend just yet. "I lost you after I'm so in love with you it hurts because that's the only kind of hurt I have ever had. Can we talk about the rest later?"

"Sure," Santana nodded breathlessly. I didn't need any more verbal cues. I pushed my mouth to hers again, letting loose all the pent up emotions. Her kisses were rough and desperate. They were everything I ever wanted.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Brittany," she said.

I pulled her lips back into mine and then pulled us apart again. "I'm not saying we can fix this but this is really good for my anger. And," She kissed me, clutching my body to hers. "And I was saying that if you don't want to have sex with me you should leave now."

"I've been waiting to have sex with you for fifteen years, make me stop." Her lips connected with my neck. I swear, I never had a fantasy this hot and I had a lot of fantasies about her.

"Technically, oh god, I did the waiting. You could have had me any time you wanted." It was getting so hard not to moan embarrassingly loud. She had discovered my pulse point and was taking full advantage of it.

"If you had jumped my bones in the locker room, I don't think I would have resisted." Her mouth was now on my jaw and I couldn't take it anymore. She needed to start doing something about my ache down below or I was going to do it myself. "That would have been a good way to get my attention."

"Take me to my bedroom now Santana," I wrapped my legs around her torso and directed her to my room all the while kissing her lips. I couldn't get enough of them, they were spongy and wet and irresistible. "I hated when you pretended I didn't exist but then I would catch your eye and know you were staring at me." She carried me up the bed, moving on her knees to lay my head down on the pillows.

"I hated it when you stopped paying attention to me and went for second best." Santana ripped open her shirt and threw it off. She unclipped her bra and disposed of it as well. Now this was the type of strip show I wanted to see.

"Don't talk about Quinn like that. She was the very best, way better than you and we never had a thing." I sat up and aided her in getting off my shirt.

"Whatever, she knew you wanted her and she rubbed it in my face constantly. I hated that you were always team Quinn." Her lips wrapped around my nipples and sent me into a series of jolts. I had never felt this sexually charged with anybody else.

"Fuck, Santana." My nails were digging into her back. There would be scars there for sure. "I tried wanting her but I only ever wanted you, Ohhhh don't stop." She was sucking my other nipple while twisting the first one and I was going into sensory overload. "Do you know how crazy you made me?"

"No, but I'm sorry." She began a trail down my stomach.

I finally found my ability to do more than lie there and let her manipulate me. My hands went to her jeans. I undid the button, pulled down the zipper and shoved her pants halfway down her ass. I indulged in feeling her up, god damn her body did incredible things to me. "Well let me tell you," I panted. "I hated you so fucking much. You drove me up the wall. I couldn't stand being around you but I couldn't stay away."

"Brittany, talk later." I wholeheartedly agreed, I must have sounded like a mad woman anyway. I pulled her jaw upwards and kissed her soundly. Our lips fit together like they were meant to.

"Take them off, now. I've waited all my life; I'm dying to feel you." Santana nodded and got off me. I immediately slipped out of my comfy pants and pulled off my underwear. I flung them into the trashcan because they weren't usable anymore. My eyes reverted back to Santana, completely naked. My sex drive shot to 200 hundred miles an hour in milliseconds. "You are so sexy, I never stood a chance." Her reply was cut off by my lips. I straddled her, never parting from her mouth, and began to grind my clit on her stomach.

"Britt, let me." She rolled me over so that I was under her. She kissed me hard and then I felt her entering me. I cried actual tears, we were finally doing it. We were making love, even if we finished and she told me it was just sex – it would always be more than that to me. I bucked my hips to match her rhythm. "Do you want me to…"

"Please," There was something in her voice that was begging me to touch her already. I didn't know how much longer I would last under her but I went ahead anyways and penetrated. The moment I was inside, I knew I wanted to feel connected to her like this forever. I began to slip in and out at a wrist breaking pace. "Ohhhh, harder Brittany," She whined. I put more effort into making her feel good, moving my thumb over her clit rapidly.

It had to be the most stimulating image I'd ever seen. Santana was bouncing, riding my fingers, moaning my name, telling me how to make her feel good. It was too much; I reached my breaking point, crying louder than I ever had. I tried to help her but my orgasm was so intense, so powerful I couldn't move. Above me Santana kept fucking my fingers. I could see her legs were straining, she was tiring out.

"Come here," I ordered her. I put my hands on her hip firmly, making her stop. "Up here, let me help you finish." I think she finally realized what I wanted to do. She scooted up till her wet heat was over my face. "Sit down, don't do anything. Just enjoy." Her muscles relaxed and I got my first taste of her. I licked her up and down, inside and outside. The noises she made had me pulsating after my orgasm was over.

"Your tongue is amazing, so deep," she moaned and I nodded in approval. I could feel her walls squeezing in fast and her voice becoming more unsteady.

"I'm going to come, I'm coming." She screamed. "Brittanyyyyyyy, I love you!"

I had to hold her still as she plummeted over the edge. Her juices washed over my tongue over and over again. I don't know if she meant it or if it was an 'in the moment' thing but I was okay either way. I had just made love to her and would continue to do it till I knew for sure she meant what she said.

"Are you okay?" I asked. Santana slid down my body and rested her head against my chest. She shuddered now and then – the after affects of her orgasm.

"Yeah, I… I think, I don't know." She was crying. I could feel her tears racing down my chest.

"It's okay to take back what you said," I swallowed. I hoped she didn't take it back though. "I understand if you're not ready."

"I can't take it back. I said it whether I was ready or not, I felt it. I just need time to come to terms with the fact that I love you."

"No kidding," I chuckled, "I need answers before I can be convinced though. I'm sorry I can't just say it back."

"I know, and it's okay," she brushed her lips against the skin between my breasts, "I've just, never talked about feelings so bare with me."

"Okay, I mean we don't have to talk now. We can go another round if you're ready that is, because I'm ready."

She propped her head up and nodded. "I can, you know do ummm…shit." It was cute to see her stumble over her words.

"Are you asking to go down on me?" I teased. She blushed furiously and hid her face under her mane of black hair.

"I'm making such a fool out of myself," she murmured, "I'm usually very confident in bed. You just have this affect on me."

"Santana, we can talk if you want." I held her jaw and brushed my fingers over her cheeks. Her complexion was so soft – unarmed.

"Okay, ask me anything. And I'll uh, take care of you at the same time."

"You are very cute." She blushed again.

"That's not something I hear often in bed." I was going to respond when her fingers started caressing my thighs. The knowledge that she was going to make love to me again was overwhelming.

"So," she said comfortably, "what do you want to know?"

"Honestly?" I breathed, trying to contain my moan when she spread my legs wider and dipped inside. "Just tell me anything, convince me that you felt – that you feel, what I feel towards you."

"I ah," for a minute she collected her thoughts. Everything felt so wonderfully comfortably. Here we were talking like people who knew each other and she had her hand in between my legs just casually rubbing me in my most intimate place.

"I saw you for the first time in kindergarten. You were wearing a pink panda shirt and were cute as a button. I saw the way your mommy and daddy dropped you off and how they kissed you. I guess I was jealous you had both parents. I rarely saw my dad growing up so that was a factor. Not that I'm using it as an excuse but I was always jealous of your home life. Growing up, I wanted to be friends with you but you were that girl who everybody loved, especially the adults and teachers. You were different, the good kind, and I knew you were special. I was a broken kid, a bad kid. I convinced myself that I didn't deserve your specialness so I shut you out every time."

"And I'm sorry about Rachel; I knew what I did to your friendship although I didn't mean to do it. I actually went to the sleepover to try to get to know you better. Rachel wasn't much help; I wasn't friends with her for long once I realized she only ever talked about herself."

"Okay," I breathed. She was making my body and heart feel wonderful all at the same time. I was starting to think she was some magic healer.

"At the age of fifteen I had sex for the first time with Finn Hudson, you know that…"

"I know who he is."

"Yeah, it wasn't good so I tried it with some other guys on the football team. It never felt right. I thought I'd feel the same tingles I felt when I looked at you. And believe me, I thought about you a lot – just because you didn't see me looking at you didn't mean I didn't notice you. You were the most gorgeous girl at the school, I mean you weren't very confident and I guess that was my fault but yeah I had a crush on you. Several times I worked up the courage to get to know you but never followed through.

I was going through an identity crisis and I'd never kissed a girl or done any other stuff with one. I wanted to do those things with you but I backed out every time. I didn't know I was gay until I kissed a girl at Scandals, you know Lima's only gay bar, and my world flipped completely." I listened to her story with great concentration as my breathing picked up.

"Do you feel good? Should I pick up the pace?" Her being concerned about my satisfaction while she poured her heart out to me won me over. Every word and every stroke convinced me that she cared, that her feelings were real – that this whole time she had been in love with me too.

"You're doing great, please continue."

"Okay, so I found out I was gay and I had eyes only for you from that day forward. But I continued to sleep with guys because I had to keep my popularity and well, that's what Head Bitches in Charge did. It was actually only one guy, Puck. In my own roundabout way, I tried to show you that I cared. I don't know if you noticed." She gave a sad smile.

"Let me think," I smiled and played with her chin hoping she would follow suit. When she did my heart turned to jelly. It was her real smile, the one that reached her eyes. "When everybody doubted my ability to choreograph our national's routine, you put them in their place. You stood up for me when the girl's trash talked me. You stopped the slushies when you could and there was that time you helped me clean up. I always wondered why one day you could be so cold and another day there you were wiping my face off."

"I'm sorry I was so confusing to you, I was confusing to me too." She laughed. It was music to my ears. "Then graduation night happened and…"

"Shit," I moaned. I really wanted her to continue but my body was betraying me. When I needed her most, she leaned down and kissed me while sending me over the edge. It was perfect, she was perfect. My mind stopped thinking about everything else and all I could feel were her lips against mine and her fingers slowly bringing me down. "Thank you,"

She kissed me one last time, softly and sensually. "Do you want to take a nap? We can talk more when you're ready."

"No, I like listening to you talk." It was true; her voice was soothing like the sound of a trickling stream. I wrapped her arms around me and laid my head against her heart.

"Well, after that kiss on graduation night when I had time to think I realized I had done everything wrong. High-school was over and I was out of time. You were moving to New York with Quinn and that was it, I missed my chance. Then I moved out here secretly hoping I would run into you someday and we could maybe start again but that never happened. I went to Harvard, came out to my parents, lost my funding and became a stripper to pay for my studies. I'm not actually a stripper now; I'm the co-owner of Slash. It's funny right? I have a MBA from Harvard and I end up running a strip club."

"Hey," I scooted up so our eyes were on the same level; she was seconds from crying "I shouldn't have judged you. But I have to ask, what were you doing performing on stage the night I was there?"

"Call it fate, but we were short on girls that night. One of them had a family emergency so I stepped in as a replacement. Fridays are our good nights."

"Wow,"

"Yeah,"

"So ummmm, right now I have a lot of feelings for you – love feelings. And it's okay if you've moved on or are moving on now. I'm just glad to have this chance to tell you and to apologize." This was what I wanted to hear for so long. I had no doubt in my mind that given this second chance, I wouldn't squander it and I wouldn't let her go so easily. I thought about it, the word fate, something that would happen no matter what decisions we made or didn't. I was in this moment, completely happy that fate was on my side.

"Brittany? I'll just leave you to think," She smiled at me, the pained kind – the defeated kind. I realized that I hadn't answered her. "And please, really reconsider your book. If you have to write it to get me out of your system then as a favor to me, change the name. I have a reputation and a job at stake so please."

"No, Santana." I gulped. I had made up my mind, for better or worse I had chosen Santana all over again. Then I realized how stupid that was because since she showed up I didn't have a choice. "What if I don't want to get you out of my system, what if I wanted another shot?"

She stopped putting her clothes on and turned back to look at me. She had surprise written all over her face. "Santana," I stood beside her and took her hand. "What if we tried again, and did it right this time?"

"Aren't you scared that I'm going to disappoint you? Because I am, scared."

"I thought you said you'd changed."

Her head dropped and a smile spread across her face. "I'm not afraid to be with you, to show you off, to rub it in my parents' face that I got the girl. I just don't want to disappoint you."

"We'll take it one step at a time, and who knows, I might be the one who disappoints you."

"Never, you're always going to be perfect to me," Now she was making me blush. My god, Santana Lopez was such a sap.

"Well, my publisher is not going to be happy to hear this." I groaned thinking of the hour of ranting waiting for me.

"Oh no, is she one of those overprotective people who kill the ex's who come back and sleep with you?"

Now Santana was being funny.

"I think Tina would be that type of person but, Santana, you are not my ex and she doesn't even know about you. I'm talking about the book that won't see the light of day. She's not going to be happy about that."

"Oh, so you're not…"

"Nope," I shook my head. "No more book. Writing it was exhausting and I don't think I can follow through now that I'm going to ask you out."

"You are?" Seriously, speechless Santana was almost as adorable as embarrassed Santana.

"Will you have coffee with me Santana? We'll go slowly, no pressure, no expectations."

It only took a second for Santana's face to display a million megawatt smile.

"So we're really doing this."

"We are." I replied.

See, this is what I believe. We can try all we want to forget people, to hate them, to give up on them – many times we find that's the right thing to do. But there are those people that won't let us forget them, that won't let us hate them without knowing it's because we actually love them, the people that won't let us give up on them no matter how hard we try. Those are the people who will surprise us one day and they are the ones who are worth the tears and pain.


	4. AN

Many people are asking me if chapter three is the last chapter of the story. The answer is yes because that's as far as the original prompt gave me.

However, if anybody wants me to write more I can a) write an epilogue or b) make it a full multi-chapter fiction.

I will be waiting for your feedback so I know if/how I should continue.

PS: If you choose option b then it'd be really nice to hear what you'd like to see written.

Thank you for following the story and reviewing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks to all the great suggestions on how I should continue from the last chapter. There were people who wanted both so I thought I'd just appease everyone by making it multi-chapter. **

**I'm so glad everyone likes the story so far. I'll try to update as much as possible but I'm on my last semester of Uni so I'm not promising anything. **

**Shout out to chuckleshan for giving me awesome reviews, I'd pm you if you had an account. **

* * *

I watched as Santana smiled and went back to buttoning her shirt. It was the contented kind of smile that said 'This is more than I ever expected'. Her fingers moved deftly down the front of her shirt to her chest.

"Oh, crap," she said and let out a frustrated breath.

"What is it? Oh…"

She looked at me with a sorry expression. "Umm, I'm missing some buttons." It's funny because I could clearly see that. "What? This is hindering me from going on a date with you, don't laugh. We have a serious problem."

Her pout is so adorable.

"I'll get you one." I hopped out of bed and rummaged through my closet. There was a lot of stuff in there and I wasn't sure which type of shirt Santana would want to wear. My wardrobe isn't a line of neatly pressed dressed suits or party gowns, of course I have those too but they were interspersed with what other people would call interesting clothes.

Looking over my shoulder, I decided to go with something safe like a button down dress shirt because that's what Santana had been wearing before she ripped it off her own back and popped all the buttons.

"Is this okay?" I held out a pink and white striped shirt to her. It was the first one my hand brushed over.

"No,"

"No?" I looked at her puzzled. Maybe I should have let her take her pick.

"Oh the shirt, yes. Of course." She faltered over her speech, something I've never witnessed her do. "I'll just ummm, over here while you uhhh."

I could see that she was staring at me, not in a strange way but in a 'how do I unglue my eyes' kind of way.

"Santana," I laughed because she was making this awkward when there wasn't any reason to. It was then that my eyes traced her gaze to the place that she was staring at. _Oh God, I'm naked. Now she's going to think I'm weird and that I lived in a nudist colony once upon a time. _

"Uh, yeah." I gave a nervous chuckle. "This, not normally. I mean, I don't usually walk around nude in front of people."

"No, no. It's your room, you should do whatever you like. I'm just going to wait for you outside." She pointed to the door emphasizing that she was really leaving now although her eyes hadn't budged from their comfortable place on my body.

"Okay, just give me a minute."

"Yeah, okay." She bit her lip and promptly ran out of the room like a frightened rabbit.

I sat back down on my bed and heaved air into my lungs, urging my heart to beat at a regular pace. _It's nothing, just going for some drinks._ I told myself. I was the one who suggested this whole date thing and I was nervous. I wondered how Santana was feeling.

There was nothing to be nervous about right? I mean going out for a drink with an old friend doesn't have to be the most exciting experience of my life. It's not like we're getting married. _Shut up brain, why are you even thinking these thoughts?_ "We're taking it slow," I said out loud just to reassure myself. "It's a date but we're not dating. We're not getting together …yet. Baby steps."

I picked out an outfit, something casual so as not to be overdressed. I hadn't had a simple date in years. Most of the time, I get nicely dressed, pick a girl up from the bar and well, the dress comes off either at her place or mine. Come to think of it, I haven't been on a date for so long I've forgotten what exactly proper date etiquette is.

"This is going to be a disaster." I grumbled to myself, leaning my head against the door. I never should have asked, then maybe Santana would have asked me out and I wouldn't have to worry about doing things right.

"Hey Santana," I made my way down the hall to the living room area. She was sitting like a lady; legs crossed staring at the black screen of my wall sized television.

"Hey," she focused on me immediately and then a smile followed. "I was just admiring the black. Did you know that's the color of my old bedroom?" I shook my head because, no, how would I have known that? I'd never been invited to her house before.

"I bet you were just admiring yourself in the shiny reflection." That got her to laugh.

She got up and dug her hands into her slacks. By the looks of it, she was just as nervous as I was a minute ago. "Shall we go?"

"Yeah, lets." I nodded.

"I didn't bring any stuff with me so I'm ready if you are."

"Ready!" I showed her the wallet in my hand. _I'm such a dork. I can't function properly around her, damn, get it together._

"Great," She hurriedly turned her back to me and opened my front door, waiting for me to exit before closing …almost. "Ummmm, do you have your keys?" She asked out of the blue.

It took two seconds to dawn on me why she would ask that.

"Damn it, I knew I was forgetting something. I'll just quickly…" If I could see my face right now it would probably be as red as a siren.

"Of course, I'll be right here."

I felt really bad for making Santana wait again. I should have been more put together than this. I didn't know why I was feeling this way, like I had to do everything right to impress her. Obviously, I was doing the opposite of that.

"Got it, thanks for reminding me." I said as I locked up and we both stepped into the elevator.

"Well, you used to ummm, forget the key in the Cheerio's changing room a lot before. It's not bad it's uh… I just remember because I had several duplicates on hand when that sort of thing happened."

"Right," I hid my face. Maybe she wasn't so oblivious to my existence after all if she knew how often that sort of mistake happened on my watch. "Well, thanks…thanks for reminding me."

The rest of the elevator ride was silent as it stopped to fill up with people.

The doors opened on the first floor and I stepped out focused on whether I should hold onto Santana's shirt or not so that she wouldn't drift off with the other people.

I hardly had time to notice how everybody had already dispersed and it was just me, holding onto her shirt in front of the closing doors of the elevator.

"There she is!"

Shouting jolted me back to reality. A group of five journalists were coming at me from the front desk, pens and notepads waving. The heavy pounding of leather boots and click clacks of heels put me into panic mode.

"Oh, uhhh shit…the elevator Santana!" She quickly jammed her finger on the 'up' button and the doors began to open again. I followed her inside where she was doing her best to press 'close' repeatedly. I panted and prayed for the doors to shut before a sneaky line of fingers could jar it open. I could hear the loud shouting of the security guards warning the journalists to stop, getting closer and closer. To my relief, the doors closed and we shot back up to the 30th floor.

"I'm so sorry," I finally said. We had both gotten nervous and excited about getting coffee together and then it was ruined by those freaks that make it impossible for me to go anywhere. "It's usually not like this; I can go out with minimal attention."

"I'm really not that famous." I said as I let us back into my apartment.

"Could have fooled me, those people came at you like you were Julia Roberts," Santana made light of the situation. I appreciated the gesture.

"That's not true," I argued, "they're just here because that article came out today."

"Well, I didn't know you were famous until this morning."

"I wonder how you missed that," I retorted with a chuckle and fished my phone out of my pocket. "Since we can't go get coffee, I'll order some up for us. What do you want?" I let the dial tone run while I got her order.

"Mocha is fine," she said, taking interest in the book shelf in the corner of the living room. My titles were displayed there. I wouldn't say displayed 'proudly' as it wasn't my idea to put them there in the first place. It was one of those things that Artie said would be good for my motivation to see how successful I had been.

I placed our order to Starbucks and hung up. Walking to stand behind Santana, I watched her select a book and leaving a tooth gap on the shelf. It happened to be the first book I had written, one about a girl who struggled to become the person she was destined to be while maneuvering through lands of magic and spells. The book was very close to my heart and in a way it represented my own struggles to overcome the things that had happened to me.

"That's the first book I wrote," I told Santana as she read the dedication page. I didn't know if I should be embarrassed or not that the book was written partly in dedication to her. Nobody would know who I was talking about but she would. I wondered what she thought of that. I wanted to ask, desperately.

Both our thoughts were interrupted by knocking on the door.

"It looks interesting; I'll get a copy when I have the chance." She smiled, barely. She replaced the book and we went to retrieve our coffee delivery. I followed her to pay for our order and then tread lightly behind her to the dining table.

"I'll pay you back next…I mean when I can see you again. If this becomes a regular thing or you know if." She left her words hanging with a piercing look my way. I knew what she was doing. She was putting the ball in my court. Something I appreciated yet disdained. I felt that all our lives I had been the one to chase, to initiate, to make the choice to choose her. And here she was making me choose again. Part of me wanted her to take up the torch and decide that I was worth fighting for. I wanted her for once to want me not because I wanted her but because she really wanted me.

Maybe it was selfish. After she'd opened up to me for the first time and even admitted to loving me, I still felt that words could only do so much. Don't get me wrong; hearing it was great but I needed more than that, I needed actions. I needed to see that she really meant everything she said.

"Brittany?" She held my coffee in her outstretched hand. I took it with thanks but kept my eyes and internal musings to myself. She didn't say anything else so neither did I, apart from telling her that I guess we could keep seeing each other. All our physical actions had brought us to this point and neither of us knew how to step forward.

"Santana, we need to talk," I finally looked at her.

She nodded. We might have established our feelings for each other and I might have initially been ready to step forward but now I wasn't sure how.

"Okay, ummm so this is all happening so fast."

"I know it's sudden, I showed up on your doorstep this morning and then stuff happened between us." Santana shrugs. "I just want you to know that whatever you want, I'm open to it."

"What does that mean Santana?" I huffed; she seemed to be talking in riddles again. "Why is it that when it comes to our relationship I'm the one who has to decide everything?"

"Brittany," she stopped me from ranting on further with the touch of her hand. "I told you, I'm not good with expressing my feelings. And I kind of said 'you know' during our little tryst. That's big for me okay? I don't know what else you want me to say. I don't even know how you feel about that."

"I don't know either Santana, I just want you to say something that kind of tells me what you're in this for so to speak."

She looked at me in a confused way, as if I wasn't making any sense to her. Communication had been our barrier before, and it seemed like that had not changed.

"Brittany, I don't know what you're asking. Isn't it obvious? I mean, I'm here drinking coffee with you because you asked me to. I'm giving you my time and attention, what do you think this is?"

"Can't you just say it Santana? Just tell me what you want!" I raised my voice. I tended to do that when I got emotional.

She placed her coffee down intently as she gathered her thoughts. I could see her swallowing and pursing her lips trying to make it sound right in her head before saying it out loud. "I want _you_ okay? It's not complicated, so stop making it seem so. That's why I said I'll take whatever you give me. If you want to be just friends that's fine, if want to be friends with benefits then I'm okay with that too, if you want to be more then that than just tell me. I'm willing to give you anything Brittany, to make up for all the things I never did but should have done in the past. Is that clear enough for you?" She said before burying her face in her hands. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get worked up."

I cracked a grin at her and nodded. It may have been selfish, but I finally got her to give me more than a vague answer. "Or you could have just said that you wanted to be with me, and go the whole nine yards to woo me into being your girlfriend."

"You're putting words in my mouth Brittany," our eyes caught and the mischievous way she'd replied made us both laugh.

"If it's not true than deny it." I waited to see how she would get out of saying anything of substance and give me a non-answer like she was so good at doing.

"I don't confirm that I was thinking about that initially but I don't deny that you've put some ideas into my head." She sticks out her tongue.

"Santanaaaaaa," I whined. She was being so damned difficult and on purpose.

"Come on Brittany, you can't know all my secrets now or you'll get bored of me."

"If I was going to get bored of you, it would have happened a long time ago."

"So," Santana sat up a little straighter and scooted her chair closer to mine checking if I was okay with that. "Let's lay it out on the table. I know that you've had feelings for me for a long time and you sort of hated me growing up, maybe deep down you still do but you're being civil because we had awesome first time sex. And that you want to be my girlfriend but that I'm frustrating to you and this is all moving very fast. Also that you're a famous writer and all the pain I've caused you inspired you to write some best sellers." She let out a sigh of relief that she'd gotten through that.

"Okay but first I'm going to correct some things. I never said I wanted to be your girlfriend and don't credit yourself for _all_ my work. You haven't read any of my books, especially the one with Mr. Ziggers. That one is actually humorous and not all dark and twisty."

"If you say so, but can you deny that you want to be my girlfriend? Because you kind of gave it away with the whole woo me thing."

"I'm not denying that I like the idea of it."

"You're so bad Brittany."

"Whatever, you like that I get you and I have enough humor to not be annoyed with your cryptic answers."

We both fell into a quiet moment of recollection before I noticed the box of doughnuts I had bought that morning. It laid, lid ajar, in the middle of the table.

"Ummm, do you want some doughnuts?"

She must have been surprised that I said _that_ of all things. I opened the lid to see some of the toppings had smeared onto the neighboring doughnuts and the side of the box. Then I remembered how that had happened. "They're a bit handicapped but even disabled doughnuts should be given a chance. It's not the outside that counts right?"

I don't think Santana understood until she saw for herself how badly damaged the poor dough cakes were. "They deserve a chance," She agreed, "since we were the ones to disfigure them anyways. Sorry about that." Santana scrunched her nose but took a cream-filled doughnut with a smidgen of peanut messing the top and bit into it.

"I know this must be a terrible first date, maybe we can just not count it?" I said and dug into a coconut shred topped pastry.

"It's not terrible; I'm totally enjoying this first date." Santana said with her mouth full. "I'll enjoy it even more if I get to hear what the readers have to say about the great Brittany Susan Pierce."

I didn't answer her immediately and must have had on a dopey face because she asked. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I can't believe you remember my middle name. Actually, I didn't even know that you knew my middle name."

She raised her eyebrows saying "I told you, I was not ignoring you."

"Anyway, most of the letters are the appreciation kind and they just write about what they like in the books. That's all."

"No, come on!" She begged, even picking a random letter out of the pile and shoving it in my hand. "I want to know what they've got to say. What if it's hate mail? Do you ever get those? I think if I got hate mail, I'd just laugh and think it was hilarious."

"Hey, it's not funny it's bullying. I won't accept it." I huffed.

"But you've got to admit, getting hate from people who don't even know you, and like, reading all the stuff that is pure speculation is kind of funny."

"I guess some of the stuff is out of this world and very imaginative." I had to admit, "I reply to those letters by telling them to write their own stories because they're good at coming up with plots for fiction."

"You are one classy lady Britt, now read me that letter."

"Fine." I rolled my eyes. I really hoped it wasn't one of the embarrassing 'will you marry me, have my babies' ones.

"Ahem," I cleared my throat. _"Dear Brittany, My name is Marilyn and I've just finished reading Watchdog Guardian."_

"That's my most recent book, the one about Mr. Ziggers." I interrupted the letter with commentary.

"Uhuh, go on." Santana stole another doughnut and relaxed into her chair.

"_I love all your books (I'm a huge fan obviously) but this one was the topping on the cake. It's amazing how even out of your usual genre, you are incredible. I think this is one of my favorite books of all times. It's funny, and edge of seat exciting. My heart wouldn't stop beating savagely against my chest for three hours straight (yes, I read it in one sitting). I just want to know if you're going to write a sequel because OH MY GOD,_ capital letters _if you say 'yes' you are going to kill me with anticipation_, ten exclamation points."

"Someone's hyped." Santana voiced her own comment with a smirk.

"And it just goes on to say that she's a big fan and yeah." I quickly fold the letter back up. Santana stops me from putting it back in the envelope.

"Hey, that's the best part. It's probably super embarrassing, let me read it!"

"No Santana! My letter, it's personal." To no avail, she wrenched the paper out of my hand and dodged my attempt to get it back.

"Where were we? Oh here exclamation points. _I had this dream where you were Mr. Zigger's, purple cape and all and you came to my window_, sounds like this is going somewhere if you know what I mean." She stood up and continued to read, always one grasp away from me.

"It's not Santana! That's enough reading to feed your dirty imagination. Give it back"

"No, no. It says, _I was just getting into bed comfortably under my covers with you on my mind when you appeared and looked at me through the glass. My heart skipped a beat and I reached out for you to come to my bed_. Oh my god. You're going to have sex with her. This is like the best letter ever."

"Stop that! You don't understand." I shouted, already way too embarrassed to care that my ears were burning. I chased her around the table as she kept reading.

"_You came."_

"What?"

"Nothing, it says _you came_. Did I miss the part where this girl has magical powers too? She just made you orgasm without touching you."

"I hate you, like so much right now." I rolled my eyes.

"Oh no, you're enjoying this story as much as I am." She winked (the audacity of this woman)

"So, _you came and you touched me in a way I didn't know I needed to be touched. I felt like Madam DeMyer in that moment and I screamed at the top of my lungs. I felt so good to be liberated from the curse of Armond that had been choking me and turning my insides into stone. I really relived that part of the story and I took it as a sign that my liver transplant for next week is going to have good results because you healed me in my dream_. What?" Santana's face screwed like she didn't believe it was possible for her world to turn upside down in a split second. "Why does this porno suddenly turn into a geek out? I was actually enjoying it until Mandy had to talk about livers, gross."

My face broke out into a gigantic, satisfied smile. "I told you. You are so dirty. Do you want to continue reading about how I've changed this girl's life?" I snatched the letter back. "She says that she wasn't going to get the transplant because she was scared she might die in surgery but I gave her faith to do it. One life saved no problem."

"I get it, you're God." Santana crossed her arms.

"Don't be so sore about it," I pulled till her arms swung free, "the feedback is one of the things that I love about writing my stories. They encourage me and I love reading how I've affected someone for the better in some way."

"Hey, I totally do that in my job too." Santana argued, trying to pull away. "You know, affect people's lives for the better."

The way Santana tried so hard to make me believe that her job was so good for humanity, gave me an idea. "Well then, I'm not saying I disagree but I need some convincing."

Santana bit her lip coyly and I knew I had opened a box of wild possibilities.

"At Slash, we take servicing our customers very seriously." Her eyes did a scan of the room and then she pulled me to the direction of my sofa. "Why do they come to us? because they want to feel better. We are healers of mind, body, and soul. There is an extensive list of ailments we can cure; we're basically doing humankind a service. In a way we are doctors; don't you think we should receive credit for that?"

"If you put it that way…" I trailed. It was hard to breath with Santana so close, whispering in my ear while rubbing the pads of her fingers up and down the outside of my thigh. "Maybe you can help me?"

Santana broke into a big smile, warm, welcoming and receiving. "If you tell me what's wrong then I can help you."

"Okay, uhhhh. So I injured my back and ass this morning doing ummm strenuous activities." I made up, thinking of what I actually did this morning with Santana.

"I think I know how to fix that," her face lit up. I was unhappy that she stopped her stroking and moved away so quickly. "Where would you like to receive your service, on this couch or in your bed?"

The way that she'd spoken the word 'bed' had me jittering with sensation in all the right places. "I think the bed would be more comfortable." I replied.

"Right then, if you'll come with me this way." She took my hand and led me to my bedroom with the most professional face on. "Before I can help you, you'll need to be prepped and given a few instructions. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes," I played along.

"It's just you and I so don't feel uncomfortable baby," I was surprised she was pulling out the pet names but then I realized she probably did it all the time on the job. "Take off your clothes and wait for me on the bed."

I watched her disappear into my bathroom and close the door. All alone I removed my shirt and pants hesitating to take off my bra and underwear. Did she want me completely naked? I decided that if she wasn't happy with the items I still had on, she could take care of them.

I crawled into bed pushing the crumpled covers off to the floor. I fixed the pillows and lay my head on one as I waited.

The bathroom door finally opened. Santana was wearing her shirt still but it was crinkled around the collar, opened in the front to reveal her sexy tanned skin and sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her bottom half was stripped down to only lacy underwear. She was every guys and girls fantasy.

"Baby, what are you doing lying on your back?" She questioned as she climbed onto the bed. I was still recovering from watching her walk over. "Turn over." It was an order so I did just that, taking in one more eyeful of her full breast dropping low in her bra.

"Let me ease the pain just relax." She said as she straddled my lower back, barely putting any pressure on me. I felt her hands moving over my shoulders with purpose, pushing down and retracting. It was good until her hands brushed lightly over my bra. She snapped it open and pushed it off my back, fingers grazing the side of my breasts. They didn't linger long to my dismay. "Feeling better?" She asked.

I could only moan in response. I moaned even louder when she lowered herself onto me and her mouth touched my back. She made a trail of kisses down one side of the crevasse on my back and then up the other. I arched in response rolling my head back in pleasure. Not only were her hands talented, so was her mouth. She reached my shoulder then began to descend down the center of my back with her tongue. Her hands gripping the sides of my stomach weren't helping either.

"Lift your hips for me," I obeyed once again and assisted her in rolling my underwear down, exposing my lower half completely. She got a good eyeful of my butt, that was for certain but she didn't say anything. She got straight to work, massaging with nimble fingers and making me shiver every time her fingers slipped accidently between the crack. As soon as it started, it was over. I might add, way too soon. I knew it was a whole thirty minutes she'd been working on me but I wanted more. This was probably how she was able to buy half the club, her fingers were incredible – her beauty alluring. Who could resist such temptation? I would empty my pockets for her.

"So, have I proven a point?" She lay down beside me, resting her arms. I didn't even want to lift my head, she made me feel so good I wanted to lay here and feel like this forever. I nodded and kept my eyes trained on her. "You definitely help people to feel better."

I propped myself on my elbows and crawled military style to hover over her. Laying here, looking into her eyes felt so natural. I could lower my face to hers and kiss her if I wanted to. I wouldn't have to question whether she would like it or run away. I tilted my head and she did the same before she reached behind my neck and pulled me in.

The ringing of my phone broke us out of our make out session as I scrambled over her body to silence it. I didn't care who was calling, they weren't nearly as important as Santana in my bed.

"Who was it?" She asked but I shut her up by kissing her. She didn't seem to mind as she kissed me back, lush lips eagerly capturing and releasing mine.

I was annoyed when my phone buzzed. "Oh shut up." I growled as I looked to see who it was this time.

"So?"

"My friend Artie," I replied, the text says it's urgent.

"You should probably call him. Oh gosh, what's the time?" She sprung up and grabbed phone. "Two, I have to get back to the club to help them set up. Tonight we're hosting a bachelor's party so I need to oversee everything."

"Yeah, it's fine." I said hooking my bra again and pulling up my underwear. "I should probably call my friend back"

"Okay, well. Thanks for the coffee." She said as I walked her to the door. "If you like, I want to take you out on a date."

"I look forward to it," I replied. "As long as it's not here because that usually ends up with us in my bed." She laughed. "Not that it's a bad thing. I like having you in my bed."

"I'm sure you do. So, I'll call you but I don't have my phone on me now and ummm why don't you just take my number and shoot yours to me?" I handed her my phone as I shook my head. She was back to being nervous, it was cute.

"There, so I'll see you?"

"See you." I said and kissed her goodbye. When the door closed I quickly went to my call logs and dialed Artie. "Hey, what's up?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, how is everybody doing? Between work and school I haven't been able to write much. I'm trying to get back into the grove of writing a little everyday though. Anyway's I hope you enjoy this update and hopefully it won't be so long till the next one. **

* * *

The moment I heard the words 'party and celebrate', a knot had tied in my stomach. I had totally forgotten about my newly made decision to scrap my book.

"Britt? So, I'll pick you up at 8:00 okay?"

I was having trouble finding an answer because hell no did I want to go to this party and secondly, that meant I'd have to tell Tina in person that I wasn't going through with the book anymore. I thought for a brief moment that I could avoid the party altogether by straight up calling her now and telling there was nothing to celebrate.

"Ummm, can we not do it tonight? I'm kind of busy." I lied.

"She's already rented out Fufu's, which is pretty impossible. You don't want to wake the Chinese dragon now do you? Come on, I'm sure you can delay your work for a bit. Get out and enjoy yourself!" It was hopeless. Either way, the dragon was definitely going to be awakened and I was probably going to be eaten alive.

"Fine, I'll be ready. But Artie, there's something – actually a lot of things – I need to talk to you about."

"Okay, I'll be there early. See you Britt."

The line went dead. That was exactly how I felt. I was so dead.

At half past seven the doorbell rang. Artie along with Sebastian were wearing their best suits which kind of scared me because I was under the impression that the party was a private one.

"Um, why are you dressed so nice?" I looked between their confused faces.

"And why aren't you dressed at all?" Artie pointed a judging finger at my New York Nets sweats and top.

"And your hair!" Sebastian ran towards me alarmed. He fingered my strands as if they were ropes holding together baskets of rotten cabbage. "This will not do. And look at the time!" He squealed, probably calculating how fast he could fix the disaster of a crow's nest my hair was in. Honestly, after Santana left, I stressed myself into a shallow sleep and had just woken up half an hour ago.

"Brittany, get in the shower. I'm going to find you something to wear. I pray to god you have something decent that doesn't need to be pressed. And Seb will try to do damage control." I rolled my eyes but did as Artie bid me to knowing I wasn't going to get out of this party.

I got out of the shower and was promptly presented with a sparkly, black sequined dressed. I dropped my towel not caring that there were two men in my room. They were talking to each other in animated voices, fussing over how we were going to be late and that my hair still needed to be fixed. I really wanted them to shut up so I could have a chance to consult Artie on what I should do with my situation.

"Guys!" I shouted having just slipped into the dress.

"Boob alert, you can't be hanging out like that. The fashion police are never generous with nip slips." Sebastian helped me adjust the dress to just the right amount of modesty.

"I was just covering them up. Gees. Hey, why are we getting dressed so fancy anyways?" I directed my question to Artie as Sebastian sat me down in front of the dresser. He began to fuss with my hair.

"Sweetheart, all of the press is going to be there. Tina wants you to make an official announcement and take a few questions. But don't worry, it'll be a very brief fifteen minutes then we'll escort you to party inside so you won't get papped all wild and crazy, like you always get." He folded his hands gently over his lap and smiled. I definitely wasn't smiling. I think all the blood drained from my face.

"I can't give an announcement," I blurted.

"Oh don't worry, I've already written one for you. I know how you hate writing speeches." Artie slipped his hand into his coat and drew out a fancy looking card. By now my hair was looking in a better state than I felt.

"No, I mean that I'm not writing the book anymore."

"What!" Artie and Sebastian screamed simultaneously. Sebastian's hands came off my hair like it was sizzling hot coals. "But, your review was published today in the paper. When did you decide this?" Artie's brow furrowed not in a mad way I hoped. He was probably confused more than anything and I didn't blame him.

"This morning? Like, actually, at almost noonish." I couldn't even look at him. I knew he'd be disappointed which was only slightly less terrible than the wrath of Tina.

"Why? What happened?"

I hesitated but I'd never been untruthful about big things with Artie before. "Santana happened. She came to see me to stop me from writing the book."

"You mean the Santana who you're exposing and hate with all your guts?"

"Yeah, that one." I knew it didn't make sense because they didn't have all the details, but I wasn't sure I was willing to share those.

"But how? No Brittany, this book is on the fast track to success. Everyone, the fans, the media, me – we are excited about it. You can't just…throw everything away." He was being rational and speaking as a close friend and associate. If I trusted anybody's judgment it was Artie's. That's why it made it so hard for me to shake my head and refuse to listen to his reasons. "I know she's influenced your life in the past. But you got through that, you're strong now. Don't let her destroy you again."

He finished talking and rolled his head back with a huff. I knew he only wanted the best for me but he couldn't do that because he didn't know everything.

I cleared my throat before replying. "Artie, she's not destroying me. As weird as it sounds, I think she's putting me back together. She came over and we talked – sorted things out. She gave me a reason not to hate her. I understand now, mostly, the things she did and why. And I realized that…I don't want to reverse the roles now and ruin her life. It's not fair, and it's wrong and I can't believe I ever wanted to do it." There was a moment of silence before anybody said a word. I was reflecting on what I had said and how I truly believed my own words. It gave me peace to know that I wasn't doing it just for her or because I was under her influence but I was doing it for me – to start again. New slate.

"Well then," Artie finally spoke. "What are we going to do?"

* * *

The car doors unlocked with a snap as loud as my beating heart. I steeled myself for the onslaught of reporters and camera's I would have to face. It's times like these that I wonder how my life came to this. One day I was a normal girl writing about my alternative universe and then I was this person who people wanted to know about. The nervous feeling in my stomach refused to simmer or calm as I stepped out of the black Mercedes Benz. I mustered all the grace and poise that I could and walked the blue carpet as a prisoner on death row – the podium set with at least seven microphones loomed ahead like a giant guillotine. Behind it stood Tina in a green flowing gown, eyes painted with sparkle of the same color. She looked pleased at the large press gathering that turned out.

"Miss Pierce, smile please."

"This way."

"Turn to the left a little."

"Beautiful."

"Show us some leg!"

I complied with a faux smile, glad that my journey to the podium was being delayed. I lifted the side of my dress with the high split up a little to reveal part of my thigh, a little trick I learned. Usually after that, the photographers would be satisfied.

"Thank you," I waved to several cameramen with dreamy eyes and continued my short walk to the front of the club.

Artie rolled up to me and escorted me behind the podium. "Just read what is on the paper." He whispered. After the revelation, he had not had much time to come up with a speech. I as usual was clueless on how to handle such matters, and so it was his job to prevent the next few minutes from becoming disastrous.

"Thanks," I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "What would I ever do without you?"

"Just make it sound convincing," he muttered.

I stood behind the podium, now facing the press head on. I bent her head to read the first line of ink that had not yet properly dried.

"Good evening everyone," I said chirpily, "Thanks for coming out tonight to support the official announcement of my new book." Turning my head, I looked at Artie for reassurance. He nodded that I was doing just fine.

I looked at the next several lines with surprise. "I'm sure you've all read the review that was put out today and you're probably excited to see it published. I have to clear something up though, there's been a mistake."

Several reporters looked shocked as they scribbled in bold letters the new development. Tina let out an audible gasp. I didn't dare turn around to see her reaction. "I sent the wrong material to be reviewed, my dear friend April didn't know this of course – it's completely my fault."

Hands began to rise and sway frantically in the air. I wondered if I should take questions now or finish reading my statement. "Of course I am still publishing a new novel," I read straight from the sheet with a slight sensation of fear, I was pretty much promising to write a new book – one I had no idea even existed. "You'll hear about it very soon, I think everyone will be presently surprised as to what it will be about." The crowd was getting more uneasy. There was a lot of shuffling and some people were already spouting questions unsolicited.

I gulped and hurriedly finished the speech. "I promise to let you know more when my agents allow me to spill." I chuckled, putting the crowd and herself more at ease. "Oh, I'll be taking questions now." I said as an afterthought, not that the press had need of prompting.

"You," I pointed to a boy who obviously was getting to experience the big league for the first time.

"Can I just say I was looking forward to your new book from reading the review?"

"Thank you," I gave him a charming smile.

The boy went on, "Now it seems your new book is going to be complete surprise, can you give us the title of the book or at least what it'll be about? Will it be another part of your famous Mr. Ziggers series?"

"That's a lot of questions," I smiled bravely and swallowed. I had no idea how I was going to answer those questions. It was unusual for me. Most of the time, I had an opinion about everything but now I was going to have to straight up lie. However, I did think of one person who was a pro at avoiding questions by giving non-answers. _ Think like Santana,_ I prodded herself. _What would Santana say?_

"It's going to be very different from what I've written in the past," I gained confidence as the reporters ate my words up. "It may not even seem like a book written by me. Lately, I've gone through something life changing and that will reflect in this new book. It's a new genre I'm exploring and it's going to be a journey that I hope everyone can relate to even if only a little. But most importantly, the entertainment will be there, it's more light hearted then my other stories." I had simply projected my feelings and allowed the words to be taken into any context the reporters could spin.

Artie nodded with approval.

The questions kept coming.

"Are you actually collaborating with a Hollywood producer to write a script?"

"Don't rule that out," I laughed and gave a misleading wink. The more they guessed, the less I had to say about the project I had just made up. "There have been talks."

Some clever reporters asked if the sudden change was because I'd received backlash for the content of my supposedly mistaken book submission. "And who was that girl you came down with? Was she a lawyer or representative of the girl you were writing about?"

They were eerily close to accurate.

"I want to make it clear again that there was a mix up and I sent April the wrong material. The titles have the same first letter and I'm very embarrassed to have sent her an excerpt of a project started long ago which I had no intention of continuing." There. In one sentence I had said it was a mistake and sent them on a wild goose chase guessing the title of her next book.

Someone tugged at the back of my dress and then Tina stepped up to tell the press I would not be answering any more questions and thanked them for coming.

"Brittany, what was that out there?" Tina asked in unmasked rage. I knew I'd completely thrown her for a loop but she didn't have to be so mad.

"I thought I handled it pretty well," I shrugged and accepted the tonic that Sebastian had found for me.

"That still does not explain why I know nothing of what is going on with your book. You're telling me that there is no book anymore?"

"Calm down Tina, you're making a scene." Artie snapped at her.

"Well she isn't talking and I'm up to here with her little stunt." Tina raised her hand to her ear. Obviously she was fuming and the death glare wasn't helping me to form words either. Artie was shifting uncomfortably in his wheelchair. It'd be easier if I let him explain but I knew that I had to do it.

"Tina, I'm going to write a new book. I promise."

"It's not that simple Brittany," Tina gritted her teeth, and her eyes narrowed into even thinner slits. "Do you have any idea what you're going to write about?"

"I…." I didn't actually know what I was going to write about now; I only knew I couldn't write what I had intended to. "I'll think of something." I replied weakly.

"You better. I need the synopsis on my desk by Monday and an excerpt by the end of the week." I nodded wildly and took a step back. Tina was being more intimidating than usual. And I still had no idea where I was going to pull a story from by Monday.

"Why'd you change your mind anyway?" Tina was not done questioning.

I couldn't tell her about Santana, I couldn't.

I didn't want Tina to hate her for some reason. Not that it would matter if they got along or not. But Tina was sort of my friend, actually one of the only people who were interested enough in me besides Artie and Sebastian, it would be nice if she and Santana got along.

"Well…as I said. I've had a change of heart. I don't want to be that kind of person who ruins other peoples lives. I don't want revenge anymore, I think I've grown up." I startled myself as if that was truly a revelation.

"Pfffff," Tina brushed it off. "You've been grown up for a while now. I still don't see where this is coming from. But really, can't you just change the name?"

"It's not a story I want to tell!" I whined. Grown up or not, I knew that I had the power of being adorable, which usually allowed me to get my way. "I don't want to remember all those things anymore."

"Fine. But synopsis on my table Monday."

Before any more words could be exchanged, Tina marched off parting the crowds like the red sea.

"That wasn't so bad," Artie released a heavy breath, "but I feel sorry for you now."

"I feel like I could crawl under the snack table and stay there forever," I mumbled, actually thinking if my dress would rip if I bent down and got on the floor right now.

"That's not going to fix anything, Britt," his voice remained soft. "Come on, don't let this get you down. Tonight we'll party and tomorrow I'll come over to help you brainstorm."

I wasn't in the mood to party anymore. I was thinking back to the day I agreed to start a new novel when I really wanted to give writing a rest for a while. I should have never let Tina convince me. I looked at Artie and decided that we could stay a bit longer for him even though I wanted to be in bed with a tub of icecream – anyway it was Sebastian's last night in New York before he had to return to the air base.

"Okay," I gave in and our group of three went to find alcohol.

* * *

Half an hour later, I was nursing a mint vodka and staring at all the people having a good time. I'd already made my rounds, talking to different people some of who I didn't remember. It didn't matter, I was polite and vague about all things surrounding my work and life. After that I'd just found a seat and planned to occupy it for the remainder of the time.

Sebastian and Artie were working the dance floor. They were happy. Sebastian had Artie out of his wheelchair and in his arms. The way that Artie moved only his upper-body made it look like the two were fucking on the dance floor. But no one cared or even spared a glance.

I never ceased to be amazed at how accepting people were in the big city. No one really cared if you were gay or if you held hands with your partner.

The more I watched, the more my happiness turned into another feeling. I began to question whether I would ever get to know the feeling of having Santana's hand in mine where everyone could see. I wondered whether she would let me kiss her on the cheek or call her baby in public. We may be all grown up, accepting of ourselves and living in the big city, but I still didn't know if Santana was scared of being herself in front of strangers.

Thinking of Santana, I pulled my phone out of my clutch. She'd given me her number, but I hadn't had time to call her or send her a text. The time on my phone was eight-thirty. I realized I didn't know if I should call her now or she'd be busy. Maybe I should just shoot her my number and leave it up to her?

I contemplated for another five minutes before I pressed the call button. I didn't know what I'd say to her but just hearing her voice would make me happy right now. Worse case scenario, she was busy and would probably call me back since she'd have my number.

While I waited for her to pick up, I moved away from the loud music into a private lounge I had no idea if I was allowed in or not.

_Hey _

Santana said with a raspy voice and a little out of breath.

"Hi Santana" I replied, glad that she had picked up. "Are you busy?" I remembered my manners. For all I know, she could be dealing with a lot of unruly customers since she told me there was a bachelor's party going on there.

_Yeah, no I can talk_

It was pretty loud in the speaker but it was getting quieter. "I actually just wanted to give you my number." I said honestly, telling her I had no idea where to go from here.

_Okay, well now I have it_

She did an adorable laugh, I could picture it in my minds eye. Her nose would scrunch up and the dimples in her cheeks would appear.

_The party is crazy downstairs but I'm glad for a little break. What are you doing? _

I was focusing on the fact that Santana probably had an upstairs office where she could monitor the activities on the ground floor. That kind of thing was hot. She was the boss and probably dressed like someone you wouldn't want to mess with. I almost forgot to answer her question.

"Oh, uh… I'm at Fufu's you know it? Sort of oriental, but it's a club just the same. I had an …."

_Announcement. _

She finished my sentence. I wondered how she could do that – read my mind.

_You're on the news_

And there it was again. That adorable chuckle.

_Your legs look sensational in that dress. _

"Oh, thanks." I was blushing. Thank goodness Santana was not able to see. "Yeah, do you know how much trouble you've caused me?" I hope Santana knew I wasn't accusing her. I just kind of wanted to flirt with her and make her laugh again.

_No I don't, it looks like you're doing just fine. So the great and mighty Ms. Pierce is writing a new book?_

It was all her fault but of course I wasn't mad at her. I had every intention of making her sorry that she'd ruined my book plans though. "It so happens that since this is your entire fault; you're going to repay me for the trouble." I told her. I had a wicked idea.

_Yeah? How? _

She sounded genuinely interested.

"Come to my place tomorrow and you'll see." After I said it and she said nothing back I wondered if I said something wrong or too forward. Sometimes I was in the habit of doing those things without knowing. Then it hit me that it sounded like I was inviting her over so I could sexually punish her which was actually turning her on rather than scaring her. "No, I didn't mean it like that. Santana? Are you still there?" I quickly tried to salvage the situation.

_Yeah, for a minute there you…my mind definitely went somewhere it shouldn't have._

Her breathing was heavy, and the rasp was more detectable. "Sorry, I've never been good with words."

_I'm surprised you're a best-selling author_

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, what I mean is that tomorrow I'm having a brainstorming meeting with my friend and since you got me into this mess, maybe you could come over and join in the fun? You don't have to of course, I'm not forcing you or anything – like yeah you got me into a sticky situation but I'm not holding you accountable for…" my uncontrollable rambling was cut off when Santana said my name.

_Britt. Where are you like right now_

It was an odd question. I already told her I was at Fufu's. "Ummm, in a private lounge? Don't worry no one else is in here with me." I added hastily, not wanting her to get the wrong idea.

Santana giggled, as if I'd said something to trigger such a reaction. "What?" I asked.

_Nothing, I thought I heard music. Are you sure you're dancing alone?_

"Ummm," I looked around me just to be sure and pulled the curtain closed, sealing the lounge completely. "Yep, all by myself. What are you up to?" I couldn't help but feel like something was cooking in the universe yet I had no clue as to what it could be.

_You'll see._

Santana replied intriguingly. She hadn't denied that she was up to something; as a matter of fact she was teasing me. She totally knew she I was hooked and that I'd never hang up the phone without knowing what she was doing.

"Ms. Pierce?" The sound of the male voice nearly made me drop my phone. I spun around to face the man who was parting the thick curtain with half his body.

I cleared my throat and asked if there was a problem, "I'm just taking a break from the dance floor. I hope its okay for me to be in here." I remembered my earlier judgment of whether I was occupying a room that was off limits.

"It's no problem," he said professionally, "If you'd like to take your service in here."

I was puzzled to say the least. I hadn't asked for anything and I wasn't sure if I wanted whatever this compliment of the house was. I nodded anyway. It was probably just a server with a variety of cocktails for me to sample.

"Santana?" I went back to my conversation after the man had left. There was silence on the other side but I knew she was still there from the sound of her breathing. "Santana." I said again.

The man entered once more, and it kind of annoyed me. I was having a private conversation and didn't want any fussing right now. My world suddenly went black as a thin sheet was tied over my eyes. I protested, but then felt a heavy weight on my legs. What was going on?

The phone was suddenly snatched from my hand. I started to panic. If I was being abducted then I would need that phone. "Hey," I started to yell, pushing at whatever was holding me down. But two strong hands caught my flailing ones and held them flat against the seat of the sofa. "What are you doing to me!" I screamed. I could barely see through the blind, but I could make out a body keeping me still. It wasn't too large so chances were it was a woman and that I could overpower her.

I began to struggle again. The body only pressed down harder. Something soft pressed into my shoulder. Okay, that was definitely a boob. "Wait is this the service?" I stilled my movement.

Then a laugh. That laugh.

"Depends what you want me to do," Santana let go of me completely and allowed me to yank off the blind fold.

"What are you doing here?" Her face turned defensive.

"Were you busy? I didn't know." She shrunk away unsure if she should get off me.

"I didn't mean it that way," I held her hand so she stayed seated on my lap. "You surprised me is all."

"I was kind of going for that," She bit her lip shyly, something I have never seen her do before. Her fingers spread open in sync with mine. We watched our hands moved idly and effortlessly together.

"I thought you were busy," her eyes locked on mine again. "It sounded like it over the phone." I shrugged.

"The party at Slash is at full swing but I'm not really needed once the ball is rolling. I'd much rather be here with you." I thought I could turn to melted butter from her sweet talking. I also felt it would be appropriate to kiss her just because she was being so nice, and I was really going to have to get used to this.

"So you drove all the way here to see me?"

"Pretty much," Santana nodded and shifted on my lap to get more comfortable.

This whole scenario and conversation was weird to me. It wasn't anything like the serious talks we'd had before, or the sultry seductive kind. It was just normal. I've never experienced it with Santana before.

Without really deciding on how to do it, I leaned forward hoping Santana would catch on because I wasn't going to be able to wait much longer to kiss her. Her lips were bright red tonight and looked exceptionally delicious.

"Well, since I'm here and you're here, and it's been on my mind all day," Santana paused for a breath and I stopped my journey towards her lips altogether. God talk about bad timing.

"What's been on your mind?" I played it off cool, like I hadn't been trying to make a move on her.

"I'm supposed to take you on a date and I don't have a clue on how to do it right." Her voice grew softer and she lowered her chin to hide her face.

"There's a rule book?" I joked. It made her smile and she rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry about it. If it makes you feel better, I could take you out on our first date." She seemed to consider taking the easy way out but then she shook her head.

"After everything, you deserve to be treated. And I want to prove to you that I can treat you right. I've been waiting for so long to finally do this; it seems silly to back out because of a little excitement."

"If you think you're excited, how do you think I feel?" I nudged under her chin so I could see her beautiful eyes. I have never seen eyes like hers; they captivated me and made me feel so many things. She gave me a wide smile and laughed when I purposely pretended my hands were shaking.

"You're so charming, have I told you that?" She said as she reached out to still the shaking. I blushed. I still wasn't used to hearing Santana say those kinds of things. I wouldn't describe myself as charming but I liked to think I made a good impression on people.

"No," I replied. "But it's nice to hear, I don't think anyone's told me that before."

"Well," she leaned forward and my heart picked up its pace. I didn't know if she was going to kiss me or not but just the way I could smell the perfume on her neck and how she arched revealing the small of her back was enough to make my heart go crazy. "I don't know why people aren't being honest with you." I gulped no words able to form when her breath hit my neck. "Or maybe, they've been enchanted. You're pretty magical too."

"Santana," I finally found my voice.

"Can I kiss you?" she whispered in my ear. Somewhere I sensed that she was just as clueless as I was about crossing certain lines and what things were allowed or not allowed. I didn't even know if we needed rules about these things.

"You've never asked before," I said, "so why start now?" She laughed again, and I was seriously starting to feel proud of my ability to make her react that way to pretty much anything I said.

"Is that a yes then?"

"Definitely," I replied just because she was being so silly and I guessed being silly with her would be something that I wanted to do even though neither of us were teenagers anymore.

"Okay, then I'm going to kiss you now." She pressed her lips into mine. They tasted like strawberry marshmallows – the best kind.

I don't think I could be any happier with how my life was turning out.

Oh right, I still had a huge book problem.

* * *

**I'd really appreciate it if you left a review, just so I know how you think of the story so far. Thanks for reading. **


End file.
